


phoenix kiss

by dharkephoenyx



Category: Glee
Genre: F/F, F/M, Sexy Times
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-07-10
Updated: 2012-07-10
Packaged: 2017-11-09 14:41:39
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 29,647
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/456643
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dharkephoenyx/pseuds/dharkephoenyx
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>One night, Appleton VX, college, gleeks as best friends who of course, have your best and worst interests at heart. A/U Finchel and a funny thing called love.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. first

**Author's Note:**

> AU Futurefic: Finn & Rachel, Samchel and Pezberry friendships. Rated M, because I honestly can't control their ooc potty mouths and I'm predicting several sexytimes. If you've ever woken up from the best carnal dream ever, only to realize it's really real but don't remember exactly what happened, or who with, here ya go.
> 
> Disclaimer: Glee, not mine.

Sunlight sears fire at her eyes. So automatically, she reaches her hand up to shield her face.

Except, she can't, because something is pressing her hands to her side. Groggily, she opens first one eye, ducking her head against the bright glare before trying again. She's not sure where the pounding is coming from but it needs to stop. Right now. She blinks and her eyes land on a sky-blue football banner with a lion and the letter C. She lifts her head slowly and looks around, her eyes widening at the unfamiliarity surrounding her.

And then  _someone_  moves behind her. She bites her lips against a squeak and turns her head. A broad expanse of pale skin greets her, a tribal tattoo on a muscular back from the left shoulder disappearing under the sheets and messy brown hair. The man, yea, she's pretty sure it's a man, with muscles like  _those_ , is fast asleep, his breathing deep and relaxed and she tries to free a hand to touch him, but her hands are still under the sheets.

Then, she realizes she's naked.

And so is he.

Again, she clamps down on her cry as she shoots up in bed, his bed. She sees her dress, or what approximates as a dress that Santana shoved her in, her underwear, her purse, shoes and  _jesus fuck!_  condoms (empty wrappers mostly) scattered carelessly around the floor.

Her head spins a little and she tries to remember anything from the night or even day before. Nothing. She spies a bottle of Appleton VX and inwardly curses herself – that drink will be the death of her one day.

She tries to move from the bed, her body is pleasantly sore – she tamps down on  _that_  thought, preferring to dissect its origins when she's safely ensconced in her own apartment, alone without sexy naked men to distract her – and promptly falls onto the floor.

Her companion grunts but doesn't do much more than nestle deeper into his sheets, his face still turned away, buried in his pillow. One hand stretches out and grabs the pillow she was using. And he's quiet again.

She debates trying to get a peek at his face, but shakes her head, the dull ache increasing, her fingers reaching out to snatch her clothes and dresses herself quickly. Her dress, or lack thereof doesn't seem quite appropriate for display to the outside world at whatever time of day it is since it's practically ripped in places, so she grabs the first thing she finds in the nearest drawer, a grey t-shirt with the words  _McKinley Titans_  in maroon across the chest.

She dashes quickly to the bathroom, cringing at the sight of her face in mirror. She washes the make-up from her face, brushes her teeth quickly with her finger and toothpaste and drags her fingers through her hair, dropping the curls around her face as a curtain.

She peeks back into the bedroom, mystery man is still asleep so she hurries to the bedroom door and sticks her head out. It's a suite, with five other doors leading off from the main room and they're all closed. She sees a hallway to what looks like a kitchen and the main door, making a beeline for it. Right as she pulls it open, one of the other doors open and a svelte man, as pale as the man in the other room, steps out and pauses, his face towards her. She sees this from behind her hair and dashes through the door, closing it quickly behind her and cutting off soft laughter.

"Rachel, Rachel, _Rachel_. What on earth did you do last night?" she berates herself. She's safe in the taxi on her way home and she's pretty sure today will go down in the history of Walk of Shames. She's ready to like, castrate Santana Lopez, because she is pretty sure Santana has cohones and is to blame for this, with some brilliant idea; why else would she be here, right now, in this minute?

* * *

Santana isn't home when she gets to their apartment. Nor is Sam. Her phone has one incoming text from Sam that he's hitting the library on campus early to get one of his reports done. Santana would call if she was dead or dying. So she heads to her room, peeling her clothes off and stalking to the shower. The water is hot, scalding her skin; the heat is supposed to help trigger events from last night.

She remembers Santana giddy over her acceptance to NYU Law. Hence the party. Hence the dress. Mike, Sam, Mercedes, Rory, Blaine, Joe and Brittany. They'd gone to the bar where Brittany and Joe worked, a night of drinking, dancing and celebrating.

It gets fuzzy afterwards.

Music, hands brushing in the darkness, kisses all over, a deep throaty laugh, husky sighs, big, firm, strong hands. She switches the water to cold, pressing her forehead onto the tile.

Mystery man. There was a mark on her hip, a matching one on the tattoo inked on her right shoulder, marks of fingers pressed into her thigh, she traces them with her own, her middle finger barely the length of the size of the pinkie finger. The ache between her legs feels good; her entire body feels good, like running a lengthy marathon and then getting a full-body massage afterwards. Even her lips, still slightly swollen, remind her little of last night.

She curses and steps out of the shower, wrapping her body in a huge towel and goes back to her bedroom, eyeing the stolen t-shirt still on her floor. It smells… comfortable. Fabric softener, cinnamon, musk and man. It's a good smell. A seductive smell. So she slips it on.

She just wishes she had a name for him. She slips into sleep, dreaming of his fingers on her thighs, her fingers buried in thick brown hair and a skilled tongue between her legs.

* * *

Sam's grin is wide when she sees him at breakfast the next morning. She was up for her usual routine, running at 6am and then yoga, shower then coffee from her favourite café near school. She has a weekend dance class at 11am, so she'd run errands until 10, then usually meet one of her roommates before somewhere, and try and get some studying in.

Today, Santana is still buried under her covers, so she bites back she lecture she's been planning on unleashing on the Latina, and now she sits across from her blond friend, whose smile is broad and mischievous.

"So."

She doesn't bother looking up from her notebook.

"Someone didn't come home on Friday."

She snorts and underlines a line of text. He's fishing for information, she knows it. They've been friends too long for her not to know him by now.

"And someone else is still hungover."

"Someone needs to mind his own business." She mutters. He chuckles.

"Well, since someone drunk texted me, assuring me that she's fine and about to have the best safe sex of the century, I think I warrant some information."

Her face turns beet red as she looks up, his green eyes sparkling. She swallows before speaking. "What are you talking about?"

He pulls out his phone and shows her the text, her name and number at the top of the message, the ever prominent star beside her name. She groans, dropping her head onto the books in front of her.

"Well?"

Her answer is muffled by the books. Sam prompts again.

"I don't know." She scowls, sitting back in her chair and crossing her arms as she glares at him.

"What do you mean 'you don't know'?"

"I mean, I cannot remember a thing that happened on Friday night. Aside from the fact that we all went out for drinks with some of our friends because San got her letter for NYU Law. After that, everything's a blur."

"Yea, we hung out at Joe's bar. I left with Mercedes around 2am and you and San insisted you were good, Joe said he'd send you guys home in a taxi. Next morning I get home, neither of you are there and I got your text. Santana growled when I called her, so I assume she's still alive."

"So you left before us?"

He nodded.

"So you would have no clue how I ended up in a room for a Columbia Lions football fan, then? Or having to dash out his room in his clothes?"

Sam's eyes are wide as he listens to her. Then he frowns. She answers before he can speak, her face turning even more red.

"Yes, we used protection. There were several wrappers all over the bedroom floor." her voice is quiet as she looks around to make sure no one heard her, but then Sam is laughing again and she's tempted to throw cold coffee at him.

"I hate you."

"Serves you right. You know drinking with Santana gets you in trouble. Need I remind you of high school? Prom night? All of our collective birthdays? Graduation night? I have a list if you need one." He grins and she thinks the jelly on his donut would go smashing with his white button-up.

"Shut up."

"Was it good?"

She blushes from her ears down to her fingertips and has to bury her face under her jacket as her friend guffaws – loudly – in the café.

* * *

She finally corners Santana at dinner two nights later. Her best friend is grinning like a maniac, wagging her eyebrows as she sits at the counter.

"Hola chica!"

"I'm mad at you." She crosses her arms and glares at her friend. Santana barks in laughter.

"Why? Because you finally gave up the convent lifestyle and finally got some dick! And according you, it was a really impressive dick that you couldn't wait to have your lips around."

Her mouth falls open as she stares. Santana brings her phone out and yep, telltale star beside her name and a very dirty text. (She's slightly proud of herself for using proper grammar and spelling even though she was obviously inebriated.)

"I sent this?"

"Yep. You were practically hanging over some giant of a man for the rest of the night. I tried to take you home but you insisted otherwise and well, Brit's hand was down my pants." At least she had the grace to look properly embarrassed.

Rachel's eyes glint dangerously again. "You made me go off with some stranger because your girlfriend had her fingers inside you? Santana! He could've killed me!"

"Chill, Berry. Damn. We were with Blaine's friends from Columbia. They came in not long after Sam split. Besides, you didn't seem too offended then when you were sticking your tongue down his throat."

"I was drunk."

"Blame it on the alcohol." Her friend deadpans.

"Santana." She warns. Santana giggles and nods.

"You didn't seem so wasted when you were singing. And then you were straddling whats-his-face and laughing, you looked happy for once. And dude was all over you, but strangely polite."

She frowns. "What do you mean?"

"He kept his hands on your waist. Berry, if I had your tits in my face and you  _on_  my lap, I'd had have you in the bathroom before you even knew what was going on."

She blushes and shakes her head, wagging her finger at the woman in front of her. "Stop that. I've already told you I don't like women. I love you, but I'll never sleep with you, Santana."

Santana grins evilly and eats more cereal. "But you did kiss me."

She's going to stop drinking. No more. Especially Appleton.

It's not that the thought of her and Santana has never crossed her mind, it has; the woman's beautiful. But that curiosity is just that, curiosity. And she never wants it to go further. They've been friends since they were 11 and Santana knows most of not all the little secrets she has. Besides Sam, and her dads, they are the most important people to her and she never wants to do anything that would jeopardize their friendship. And Santana knows that, so she may flirt, but it's all harmless. No telling what alcohol would have made her do though, harmless or not.

Before she can respond, Santana waves it away. "It was a dare. And a peck. I have proof. Relax, Rachel. Besties til we kill each other, remember?"

Rachel smiles and puts her hand over Santana's. Then drops onto the seat beside her at the counter.

"So, who was with us on Friday? I woke up in someone's dorm room but I left before I saw him."

"What?"

She blushes and turns away. "I woke up on Saturday in some guy's room. He was sleeping beside me but I left before he woke up. I don't even remember his name, or even what he looked like."

Santana laughs. "You little slut!" She laughs off the slaps Rachel's small hand makes as she glares at her then pushes her away, patting her shoulder affectionately.

"As long as it was good."

Rachel can't help her blush any more than she can't not breathe. So Santana is laughing again and she just glares.

"We were with Blaine, and his boyfriend. There were three other guys and three girls, but I honestly don't remember anyone's names. They were celebrating Blaine's letter to Law school too. And something about a Lancelot at MIT?" She shakes her head. "I was wasted. And well, Brit."

Rachel drops her head onto the counter and sighs. Then she lifts her head up and rests her elbow in the counter.

"They were all from Columbia?"

Santana shrugs.

"Well, chances are I'll never have to see them again, well, unless we're hanging out with Blaine."

"He's a classmate, not necessarily a friend."

"But you may see him. You are going to school with him."

"Yes, Rachel. But just because we're both gay doesn't mean we're besties."

She huffs and tries to reason with Santana. Being gay has nothing to do with it. If Blaine and Santana are classmates, chances are their paths would cross. And if their paths cross while Rachel is with them, she may run into mystery man. Although all she has to go on is brown hair, broad shoulders and a tattoo. And large hands.

It wouldn't be so bad if that happened, right?

* * *

It was the middle of the summer when she went back to New Jersey with Santana and Sam for a weekend from work. This would be her and Sam's final year at school, Santana had faced graduation earlier and was readying for law school in the fall. Sam still worked at the comic book shop in town and she was still auditioning for plays for Broadway, off-Broadway and off-off-Broadway while she worked at a music shop; her last year at Tisch would be a killer, but she was so close to Broadway she could taste it.

They were in Sam's backyard, by the pool lounging, trying to cool down. Mike, another friend from high school was visiting from LA, with a new girlfriend in tow.

"Yo, my man! Welcome back!" Sam and Mike did some fancy handshake and Santana just rolled her eyes, winking at Rachel and both of them kick the men into the bool.

She laughs at them and settles back onto her chair, waving happily at the pretty Asian girl Mike has hung on to.

"Don't mind us. They're used to it. Rachel." She greets, holding her hand out.

The girl blinks at her, shakes her head a little and nods, her own hand reaching out to clasp Rachel's.

"Hi. Tina." She gives a small secretive smile then turns to Santana to greet her as well. Mike hauls himself out of the water and falls on top of Santana, soaking her with water then jumps over to Rachel and does the same. Sam greets Tina, hands her a beer and they all claim pool chairs, laughing loudly and trading stories of living in New York and LA.

"I actually lived in New York for a bit. I just graduated Columbia, I studied photography."

"That's pretty cool!" Rachel grins. She loves art, in all shapes and forms.

"I sing and perform. Big hopes of making it to Broadway. My name in lights and my picture on billboards." She puts her hand against her forehead and sighs dramatically.

"Yea, Rach's our resident drama queen. San's the lawyer who you'll need on your side and Sam's an architect." Mike points to the house behind them, a split-level two story. "He designed his parents' house in middle school. They completed it just before graduation."

Tina's eyes widen at that piece of information and she nods approvingly as she stares at the house behind her. "I'll need to keep in touch with you, clearly." She smiles. Rachel watches the way Mike looks at Tina and grins over at Sam and Santana.

"I think Mike is trying to build a rolodex of classmates in every profession. So one day he can say he knows regular people. We know we're losing him to the high life in LA. You couldn't have gone to med school before you decided to go pursue dancing, Mike? Geez." Santana quips and Mike flicks her off.

Sam's mother comes out with fried chicken and tofu burgers, more beer and sodas and they all lounge around the pool.

"I feel like I know you from somewhere." Tina says suddenly. She's staring at Rachel with an intense look, tapping at her jaw.

She frowns. She's sure she doesn't know Tina. "Have you ever posed for any photography?"

She'd laugh at the ridiculousness of the suggestion but she doesn't want to offend her friend's girlfriend. She shakes her head.

"Charcoal or oil paint drawings?"

"No." she shakes her head again. "Never. Ugly duckling you know."

Santana glares at that.

"I could've sworn I've seen your face somewhere before." Tina trails off, lost in thought then shrugs, dismissing the idea and smiles. "So, Broadway? Mike tells me you're an amazing singer."

Conversation flows easily throughout the night even though Tina kept staring at Rachel all evening, and she could see that Santana and Sam noticed it too; should she be worried?

* * *

It's chilly outside when Mercedes invites her to lunch one weekend when she visits again, once she pries herself away from her boyfriend. They're catching up since Mercedes graduates from Howard this year too and is thinking of moving to Hollywood to intern at a TV station. There may or might not be a dream of a record contract, and then, there's Sam. She'd be leaving him behind; she's not too happy about that.

"Rach, it's a great opportunity! I'll have a job waiting for me when I graduate, and even though it's so far away, I really want to try. I don't know if Sam wants to move to LA. I don't even know if he wants us to be together after university. But I don't want to lose him."

Rachel wants to slap the forlorn and heartbroken look Mercedes has on her face. "Cedes, you've managed college apart, why should work be any different?"

"It's the other side of the country, Rachel. It's not a four hour bus ride anymore." Mercedes gripes.

She's been through this with Sam before, her and Santana. It's like a story stuck on repeat. She's about to launch into a lecture when someone calls out to Mercedes. And someone else calls out to her.

Mercedes' eyes widen as she looks over Rachel's shoulder and when she turns around, Mike's girlfriend is grinning at her. The man she's walking with runs over to hug Mercedes tightly and she hugs Tina quickly, her eyebrow raised at the giddiness of Mercedes and the man.

"What are you doing here? You're supposed to be at school." He squeals.

"I'm here for a weekend visit, I live here Kurt, you know this." Mercedes smiles.

"You could've called! We could've caught up some. I missed you my chocolate diva." He sighs again and hugs Mercedes, wrapping his slender arms around her.

Mercedes laughs and turns to Rachel. "Rach, this is a friend of mine, Kurt Hummel. We met on a fashion workshop my university put on in DC. I swear, he has more fashion in his pinkie finger that I have in my whole body! Kurt, this is Rachel Berry, I've known her too long, probably since diaper days."

She shakes hand with Kurt. He's impeccably dressed, and not a hair out of place with sparkling glasz eyes that now seem to be peering intently at her.

She introduces Tina to Mercedes. "She's dating Mike." She winks at her friend, laughing lightly at Tina's blush.

"Mike? As in Mike Chang?"

Tina nods. Mercedes sighs. "I swear that boy was born with arms of steel. I loved watching football practice."

Kurt echoes her sigh. "I know. Tina's very lucky. "

Tina laughs, and then Rachel does. Mercedes joins in at the blush creeping over Kurt's face as he mock glares at them.

"Are you in LA too Kurt?" Rachel asks.

"Not yet. I'm in my final year at FIT. Tina's helping me photograph my final portfolio and after that, anywhere is possible. I'll be a hit at every fashion show, worldwide." He winks at her and rubs his hands together. "How about you?"

"Rachel's a senior at Tisch." Tina smiles knowingly at Kurt.

He tilts his head to the side. "You sing?"

She nods.

He blinks and furrows his brows thoughtfully.

"My girl's a future Broadway performer." Mercedes pats her hand affectionately. "One day her name'll be in lights and her shelves will be overflowing with Tony awards."

Rachel laughs, they've had similar dreams since they were kids.

"Are you guys in a hurry, we don't want to keep you?" Mercedes asks.

"We just had lunch. We're going to a showing my brother is having, it's just two blocks over. Are you two free? I'd love it if you could come." Kurt says eagerly. His eyes are sparkling at them both and he looks like he's about to pull her out of her seat.

Rachel frowns. "Actually, I have a rehearsal in half hour."

"Oh. Rain check? I'm a fan of Broadway myself, I'd love to pick your brain sometime." Kurt smiles.

She grins. "Sure. Mercedes can give you my number. We can all go out to dinner."

"That'd be lovely."

She nods and grabs her books, waves and walks quickly away from the table, pretty sure that Tina and Kurt were still staring after her.

* * *

At Christmas, the three of them head home to New Jersey for Rachel's fathers' Christmas/Hanukah dinner. Sam has Mercedes glued to his side the entire night and with one look at the nervous hand he has stuck in his jacket pocket, she and Santana pull him away into the den. He fidgets for a bit, running his hand through his hair before dropping to the couch, his face in his hands.

"You don't think I'm rushing into doing this, are you?"

She looks at Sam, his green eyes nervous. Santana looks at her and they both sit beside him on the couch.

"Do you love Mercedes?"

"Yes."

"Do you want to marry her?"

"Yes."

"So why are you scared?"

"What if she says no?"

"Why would she say no?"

He can't answer that one. She knows they love each other. Has since high school, but both were too stubborn to admit it. Mercedes going off to Howard had been the catalyst in them admitting their feelings and they'd made it work all this time. Mercedes getting that job in LA? Sam was devastated.

"Sam?"

He looks up at her, his eyes sad.

"Are you proposing because you don't want her to move to LA?"

"Yes. No. I mean, I don't care where she goes. I just want to be with her. If I have to follow her, I will."

He's completely serious.

"Then, OK. There's your answer." Santana says. "If you love the woman enough to do anything for her, nothing borderline illegal of course, why do you think she'll say no?"

"But what if?"

"Sam?" Rachel tries again. "Mercedes loves you. And she's really looking forward to the job in LA. But she's afraid she'll lose you. I'm not saying pack up and follow her because you still have a life here. But if you love her as much as you say you do, why can't you make it work until it's perfect for you both?"

He runs his hand over his hair again and sighs.

"You're not proposing to keep her here with you. You're proposing because you want to build a life with her. Anywhere it takes you. Remember that."

He nods, reaching his hand out to clasp both of theirs. "You two are totally going to be in the wedding. San, I'm making you the best man. Well, woman."

"If she says yes." Santana smirks.

" _When_  she says yes." Sam corrects.

Santana grins. "Fine. But I'm not wearing a tux."

Someone knocks on the door and Mercedes pokes her head in. "You guys are missing the party. Or are you having one without me?" She smiles.

They both squeeze his hand and get up, pushing Mercedes in the room behind them and locking the door.

* * *

Tina and Mike invite them to a New Year's masquerade party, masks and dress gowns. And since Kurt is helping her plan this party and because he's a fashion mastermind, her and Mercedes agree to go shopping with him. They drag Santana and Sam along.

Three hours in, Rachel is ready to cry uncle and go soak her feet hot water. Kurt is a tyrant. Mercedes laughs and Sam has to drag Santana away as she comes up behind Kurt at a rack of dresses with her hands ready to wrap around his neck. She glares daggers at them the entire time until finally he dresses her in a one-shoulder blood-red dress, a slit up one leg. Santana emerges from the dressing room and twirls, satisfied when their personal shopper nods in approval.

"Go with God, Satan – um, Santana." Kurt waves her away, grinning at his slip. She glares at him and then disappears behind the curtain again. Rachel falls against Mercedes as she laughs and even Sam chuckles.

They find Sam a tux and have to drag Mercedes away from him.

Kurt finally dresses her in a silver dress, with no back, a low V cut at the bosom and a slit at the front, on the other side where Santana's is.

"I have the perfect mask for you. Silver feathers. You'll look like a dream." He nods. Sam and Santana wolf-whistle, Mercedes hollers and a woman in the store glares at her as she has to drag her husband away. Rachel blushes before she ducks back into the dressing room to change.

They find matching shoes and Kurt buys her a very revealing swim-suit despite her protests, after Santana and Mercedes each persuade her to try it on. "You'll thank me when you wear it love." He winks.

The party is packed really, but she doesn't feel like a third wheel even though Santana brought Brittany with her, she's technically the only one there without a date. She poses for pictures with everyone, eats finger food (Mike was kind enough to have vegan options) and mingles with the crowd. Everyone's wearing masks of course and she can only recognize her friends, Tina and Kurt and Santana's friend and Kurt's boyfriend, Blaine because he lifted his mask up before he hugged her.

"Nice meeting you again superstar." He winks.

She's a bit embarrassed because of course, they met at Santana's celebration party That Night. She should remember Kurt too, and she'll gladly blame that on the alcohol. Kurt waves her apologies away and tops up her drink.

"Let bygones be bygones."

She's on her fifth glass of champagne by the time the countdown begins. Santana and Sam promise to kiss her a minute after midnight and she laughs at them, sitting at chair near the balcony as she watches people mingling about.

The countdown reaches three when someone swoops her up into his arms. He's tall enough that she's pressed into his chest and has to bend her head back so he can reach her lips. His fingers are warm on the skin of her back, his lips soft and gentle against hers. It's a chaste kiss that lasts just long enough until the countdown is over and more champagne is popped when he lets her go. Still surprised, she opens her eyes to see him disappear into the crowd and then her friends are slipping their arms around her, pressing kisses to each cheek.

She's caught up in the loud singing and by the time it occurs to her, the taste of cinnamon and the familiarity of the kiss, the crowd is pressing against her and no one is really paying attention to her, standing by the balcony, trying to search the packed room, her fingers pressed against her lips.

...


	2. second

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Finn and Rachel actually meet, but it doesn't turn out the way they'd like.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OK. So, I have no experience with art. None. Whatsoever. So anyone who's done art history or art appreciation (or even attend CU), this is wholly my creation and just fodder for the storyline. I apologize for any misappropriations.

It's not until February before Kurt gets her to go to a gallery showing. He's practically been pestering her to go with him, praising his brother's gift with a pencil so often until she finally relents. It's about a week after Valentine's and Sam and Mercedes and Santana and Brittany are still on whatever high's left over. She's never been more annoyed that she's still the only single one from their lot.

They check their coats at the door and Kurt links their elbows and lead her over to a corner of the gallery. It's mostly abstract art here, which she knows absolutely little about besides that one class in art history she just did as an elective and a hobby that one of her fathers has an interest in. The artist is good though: Finn Hudson - the plaque (on the wall below seven of the paintings) displays. One of them looks like an eye, with long curling lashes, the brown colour looking deep, the swirls making it look endless. There's another that looks like someone's shoulder and another of a woman's silhouette.

She takes a particular interest in this last one, the figure looks like she's glowing, and the colours, orange, blue and purple mixed around the figure looks like music notes.

She's impressed. She tells this to Kurt and he literally  _beams_  in joy.

"I know the artist."

She nods and moves onto the next row over. It's an exhibit of students' work from Columbia University, Kurt tells her. They gave them a card at the entry to the studio and each painting has a number scale that they're supposed to rate and add any notes they want. Kurt hasn't pointed out his brother's work and Finn Hudson's paintings really are fantastic so she marks them high on the scale, the silhouette painting getting the highest mark of all with one word: magical.

"We don't get to meet the artists?" She asks Kurt as they move back towards the front of the gallery.

He shakes his head. "They're not supposed to be here tonight. When they are finally graded, if they want to sell their work, they're allowed to visit the galleries where it'll be on display."

"They're very talented." She remarks, her eyes lingering on the silhouette painting again. "I should know; I'm very talented too." She grins mischievously.

Kurt laughs, and wraps his arms around her shoulder as they make their way to dinner. "I'd love for you to meet my brother. I'm sure you two would get along marvellously."

"You didn't tell me which was his. Is he anything like you? Because really, you're already a handful dear." She jokes. She likes Kurt, he's loud, he's happy, he's fun, he's real and so far away from the personalities she has to deal with every day at school. He seems to fit in as easily in her life as Santana and Sam do.

"I didn't want you to play favourites." He winks.

She didn't see a display by anyone named Hummel, but truly, Finn Hudson's work was remarkable. She liked all his paintings.

"But no. My brother's a sweetheart. No fashion sense and a right teddy bear." He looks over at her. "Women fall in love with him all the time but he's clueless enough to not have an idea just how adorable he is."

"Ah, he's a heartbreaker."

Kurt shakes his head again and giggles. "Hardly. He's just a really nice guy. Very unassuming. People misunderstand him sometimes. He's laidback and easy enough that some people don't really take notice of him, so he likes to escape into his own world when he draws."

She understands. As larger than life as she can be, and even with her singing, at school, she's just like everyone else, and easily overlooked.

* * *

She's at the music shop one evening working when she gets a phone call. She has to ask the person on the other end to repeat themself twice before the man laughs.

" _This_ is _Rachel Berry?"_

"Yes."

" _Good. I have an audition tape here of you and I'd like you to come in for a reading. It's a small part, but I think it will suit you nicely."_

"Oh! Thanks, I guess. When do you need me to come by?"

" _Is Saturday good for you? I can leave my information with you, but Professor Larking at Tisch can vouch for my company."_  The man chuckles heartily.  _"Daresay you think I'm a creeper."_

The thought did cross her mind. "Alright." She takes his information and logs onto her school website, pulling up the lists of theatre houses and workshops associated with Broadway. His is way down on the list, but it's there.

" _Ms. Berry?"_

"Yes, Mr. Shuester?"

" _I'll see you on Saturday?"_

"Yes. Thank you!"

Will Shuester hangs up and she stares at the phone in her hand. She dials her professor's office number, (just in case) and her smile is wide, legs vibrating as the woman confirms that yes, she sent over one of Rachel's assignment videos to Will Shuester. It's not unheard of and since she graduates in June she'll have ample time for rehearsals when the production opens later in the fall.

It's surprising that the first person she calls as soon as she hangs up is Kurt. He's screaming and jumping up and down on the other end and then yells at her to call everyone else, they need to celebrate tonight.

"Put on your best dress sweetheart, Broadway calls!"

Kurt is loud, but by the time she hangs up with Mercedes, her ears are ringing.

* * *

She and Santana are late for Sam and Mercedes' engagement party. Santana needed to find this particular bottle of wine that she dragged her all over Brooklyn to find. So pulling up to the house and hearing a pool party in full swing going on without her, she's aggravated.

She slams the car door and marches inside, ignoring Santana's apologies.

"Hey! Glad you guys could make it." Mercedes smirks as she hugs Rachel.

"My fault. I had to get this." Santana hands over the bottle of wine and Mercedes squeals, wrapping her hands around Santana, so fine, Rachel can't be angry when Mercedes looks like she's practically over the moon about the bottle of wine. She rolls her eyes at Santana's smug look.

"The party's outside ladies." Sam comes in and kisses their cheeks, his lips lingering on Mercedes'. He looks from her to the bottle and pulls her close, tucking her head under his chin. He winks at them and Rachel nods, linking hands with Santana as they step between the sliding doors leading to the pool.

It's April and hot as a bitch outside. Sam's backyard is filled with people and most of them are in the pool. Matt, Mercedes' brother, is at the DJ booth and he waves at them as they step onto the outside patio.

So, yea, people are everywhere, some who she doesn't know. But then Kurt appears. Santana isn't a fan of his, but Blaine's here so she smiles politely. Kurt hops in front of them, barely sparing Santana a glance then kisses her cheek. Blaine shakes Santana's hands and kisses hers and Rachel knows when Santana spies Brittany because she waves her middle finger at Kurt then disappears.

"Rachel. Your bathing suit is gorgeous! Take that wrap off woman, flaunt all your sexy!"

Kurt is hilarious. He bought her the suit she's wearing of course, but no, he's not showing off. Really.

Blaine hands her a beer, Kurt tugs off her wrap and tosses it aside, leading her through the crowd of people milling about towards the pool. Booming laughter echoes and her eyes immediately finds its owner, his back to her.

Messy brown hair. Pale skin. Strong back with muscles rippling across. A tribal tattoo from his left shoulder down to his hip, an intricate and dazzling design.

She remembers her fingers tracing that design, tracing freckles on a strong jaw, fingers entwining with hers as he turns onto his back, covering his body with hers, pulling her lips down to meet his while he buries his hands in her hair and bruises her lips with his kiss.

She grips Blaine's hand tight, stopping him in his tracks, her eyes glued to the man sitting by the pool. And the pale, delicate hand gripping his arm as whoever he's talking to floats in front him in the water. Kurt and Blaine both follow her gaze and she sees them exchange smiles.

"Let's walk to the other side of the pool. Have you seen the hot tub behind the fence?" she asks, struggling to keep her voice normal.

"Hot tub?" Kurt raises his eyebrows at her. Okay, really, it's hot as Satan's balls outside, but it's the best she could come up with. And it was somewhere private.

"Yep. That fence there? Behind it, Sam designed a private bath for his parents, but we make good use of it when they're not around." She says nervously, gulping her beer and walking away quickly, away from mystery man and behind the bushes. Where she was, you know, free to freak out a little.

* * *

 _He_  was Kurt's brother.

Finn. That was his name. Finn Hummel.

She heard Kurt snap something at him about sunscreen, but didn't dare turn around; she was small enough to hide behind Blaine. So she did, ignoring both men's smirks as they watched her trying to hide.

Just hearing his name has butterflies raging in her stomach. How she managed to go so long without running into him is beside her, and she's hung out enough times with Kurt for it to have happened. She has no clue what she's supposed to say to him, how she is even supposed to act. Does he even remember her? Kurt titters beside her and she drops her hair to hide her face.

Wait.

Her head snaps up to Kurt.

"You saw me leave the suite that morning." She whispers, horrified. "Oh. My.  _God_." She drops onto a chair and buries her face in her hand, the cold beer cooling the redness on her face.

"Oh, sweetheart, it's OK. To be honest, both of you were pretty smashed."

"Oh, fuck. This is embarrassing." She wails. Blaine pats her shoulders soothingly.

"If it's any consolation, Finn was worse. He kept going on and on about some petite brunette from the party but he didn't know, or didn't remember your name." Blaine says.

"I don't even remember  _meeting_  you guys at the bar." She says into her hands.

"Yo. Finn! Come help me with the keg!" Sam hollers from the kitchen. She peeks around Blaine's legs to watch him pull his legs from the water and walk towards the door. She's instantly transported back to that morning she woke up in his room.

The man defines sexy.

Sweet Jesus.

She hides her face again, muttering expletives under her breath, swearing off Appleton again. The most she can hope for is that Finn is actually a decent guy, and hey, since he apparently he doesn't remember her, or their drunken escapade, maybe she can escape the embarrassment that's sure to follow when they eventually run into each other, or, casually meet. Whichever way the chips may fall.

Mercedes hollers for her and she shoots up, hurrying towards her friend, hair down and silently thanking the gods that she's easily swallowed by the crowd, small as she is.

"Berry! You think you can whip up some more of your cookies and stuff? Those idiots ate the batch you sent over earlier and I really want more." Santana says.

Really? This is what she called her out of hiding for? She crosses her arms and glares at Santana. "You want me to bake? Cookies? For you? Now?"

"I want cookies, Rach. Sam and Puck had them all." Brittany pipes up.

"Who the hell is Puck?"

They point towards the keg where Mike, Sam and the other men are hanging around and Santana says, "Mohawk."

She's staring at Finn though. She can't help it. She tries to look away but he catches her eyes before she can.

She knows the exact moment when he recognizes her. Or at least, realizes there is some familiarity to her. Not that she can understand why, she's no one special, no distinguishing features but her nose and her voice. Still, she's slightly nervous that now he knows who she is. She closes her eyes but she can feel his gaze on her. And by the way he's staring at her, she's pretty sure he has some questions where she's concerned. Namely, where's his t-shirt? She almost smacks herself, because really? His t-shirt is probably the least of his concern right now.

She cuts her eye at Santana and excuses herself, flitting away to the kitchen. But since she's clearly unlucky right now, she shouldn't really be surprised when she walks right into one of her worst mistakes: Jesse St. James. She really doesn't know why Sam, or Mercedes even, invited him.

"Rachel! How lovely to see you." His smile is as fake as ever.

"Jesse." She steps aside to avoid his hug and goes over to the fridge, pulling out a platter of carrot cake. Screw Santana and her cookies.

He clucks his tongue behind her. "Should you be eating that, love? You know you have to maintain that figure for the stage."

She refrains from throwing the knife at him. "Why are you here Jesse?"

He sighs, walks around to the opposite side of the kitchen island and turns his blue eyes on her. Once upon a time, those eyes would turn her into putty. But this wasn't high school. And Jesse was a dick. She rolls her eyes and eats a piece of cake.

"I was in the old neighbourhood and Sam's sister invited me. We are old friends, after all, are we not?" he reaches out a hand to cover hers on the table and she pulls away.

"No. We aren't friends. Haven't been since sophomore year of high school. Remember the egg-throwing incident?"

Santana broke his nose for that. She glued glitter and dirt in his locker. They both had to restrain Sam.

Jesse's smile falls a little but he waves away the remark. "Ancient history. I saw you perform in our last workshop."

She lifts her eyes to his. Which workshop? Jesse was on Broadway. He was an excellent singer, could work on his acting some more, but he was a performer, through and through. And he was performing right now. She knew him well enough for it.

"So?"

"You're gifted, Rachel. You know that." He rests his hand over hers on the counter.

She stares at him. What was he playing at?

"I could put in a word or two for you. I know how infuriating it must be to be going to so many auditions and not getting a call-back. At least, one that matters. One can only be an understudy or in the chorus of that many productions. I've been there. I know it takes its toll. I can help."

She's about to stick the fork in him when someone calls out from behind them.

"Rach? Sweetie? You alright?"

So, technically, she doesn't know him. But he's managed to use her nickname, save her from killing a pompous prick and reducing her legs to jelly, all in a matter of seconds. So when he comes up behind her, wraps his arms around her from behind and rests his chin on top of her head, no, she can't control her body. She doesn't want to anyway. She rests her head against him, his chest warm against her skin. She can feel his heartbeat.

Jesse is glaring at their interruption, his eyes narrowed at the man's (larger) hands on her hips and she smiles sweetly at him. She wraps her palm around the hand on her waist to steady her nervous hand, which, honestly, is useless.

"I'm fine honey. Jesse was actually leaving."

Jesse casts one last scowl at her and then steps around them to go back outside; she doesn't move when she hears the door click closed behind them.

Maybe she should be a little more nervous that Finn's body pressed up against hers feels so  _right._

* * *

The man is beautiful. Rachel loves to talk, but right now, she has no words. At least none she could use to describe him correctly.

He pulls her from the kitchen to Sam's den, clicking the door shut behind them and sits at the poker table, his eyes on hers as she hoists herself up onto the pool table, her legs dangling several feet off the floor.

"Rachel Berry."

"Nice to meet you, Finn."

"You're a hard woman to find."

"I wasn't aware anyone was looking for me."

"You stole my t-shirt."

"You ripped my dress."

Finn's eyes darken as they zero in on her bare shoulder. His gaze travels the length of her body before dragging back up to her eyes and she knows he can see her entire body redden under his stare.

"I'm not sorry. It was a lovely dress, I'm sure. But I'm positive you were lovelier without it." His voice is silky like honey, and dangerous. It's cool in the den; she can feel the goosebumps on her skin. Her hands leave the table to cross over her chest. She's wearing the black and pink halter top bikini, and her nipples are very much on display.

She stares at him. Amber coloured eyes, freckles all over his nose, a triangle of marks on his lower right cheek. He's shirtless, skin still pale but he's just big, and broad. He looks huge compared to her small frame and she fights her blush as she wonders if he's big  _everywhere_. She should know that already, right? She can't remember.

"So, your Kurt's brother?" She clears her throat to ask.

He nods. "My twin. Finn Hudson, at your service."

She controls her surprise, blinks slowly and bites her lip. "You look nothing alike."

He shrugs. "We're two different people. But he knows me better than I know myself."

She frowns. "Different last names."

"Our mother remarried when we were young. We used it mainly for artistic purposes. Mine's for my art, Kurt for his designs. It's sorta become a habit to not correct people anymore." His lazy drawl creeps over her, his voice is low, and gentle. His eyes are intense and seeking.

The silhouette painting. "Art?"

"I draw. Charcoal is better. I paint some too."

Her head tilts to the side. Kurt and his incessant staring. Knowing eyes. Always wanting her to go to the gallery with him. The paintings were  _his_? Colour her impressed.

She nods slowly. Her eyes drift to his fingers. His hands are clasped together on his lap. His fingers are long and narrow. And she wants to remember how they feel.

"Your name suits you."

She raises her eyebrows. She's been teased about her last name growing up, being called every fruit in the book. She ignores them now.

"Sweet. Tart. Unforgettable. Just how you taste."

The room is quiet, so she's pretty sure he hears her almost-silent squeak as her body traitorously reacts to his comment and his voice.

She's sure his eyes darken even more.

"Why did you leave?"

"I didn't know you."

He gets up, his hand at his sides as he moves slowly towards her.

"You slept with me."

"I was drunk. I do dumb things when I'm drunk."

He laughs softly, still moving towards her. She doesn't move. He stops in front of her, hands on either side of her as he bends down. He smells of beer, margaritas and hot dog. And mint, warm cinnamon and  _man_  and like the shirt she has hidden in her dresser back home.

"Are you drunk right now?" His breath washes over her face and she has to shake her head a little to clear it. He's too close. But, really, she doesn't mind.

She raises an eyebrow. "No."

"So, if I kissed you, would you slap me?"

"I don't know you."

"I'm Finn Hudson." He gives her a lopsided smile that stirs the fire already started in her belly.

Hang on. She perks up at the memory of the man kissing her at the Christmas party. Was that  _him?_ That means he knew who she was all along?

"You kissed me at Mike & Tina's New Year's party!"

His smile is shy. "I'd hoped it was you, you reminded me –" He stops and stares at her. "I couldn't see your face, but your hair…" he trails off, and then bends down to her.

"You kissed me at midnight. I'm the person you're supposed to be kissing for the rest of the year."

Her entire body flushes with heat as his lips brush against her ear. She's only had two beers so she can't blame her reaction on alcohol this time. But, Finn is a beautiful man. And while her mind doesn't remember what happened that night, her body seems to, and by her reactions to him, it seemed to have liked it a lot.

"Like I said, I was drunk the first time. I can't be blamed for my actions. And  _you_ kissed  _me_  on New Year's." Her voice isn't as strong as she'd like it to be and it's all she can do to not wrap her hands around his neck and press her lips to his. Her body tells her if she tilts her head just a little to the left, Finn's lips can find that spot just right behind her ear. Her fingers can settle in the V at his waist and she knows that if she scrapes her fingernails  _right there_  he'd make that sound; his fingers would grip harder at her waist.

Her body knows all this and her brain catches up long after. So, fuck it.

"You can kiss me if you want to." She breathes, staring into those amber-coloured eyes, her lips aching to meet his again.

"I want to."

He's kissing her like he's starving. Like her lips and her taste are the only things that will keep him alive and he can't get enough, even though he knows it's not going anywhere. One hand buries itself in her hair, the other pulls her roughly towards him, her legs automatically wrapping around his hips and he tilts her head back, his tongue sweeping into her mouth.

She makes this really strange noise and he pulls away from her mouth, she whimpers, opening her eyes to see him staring at her. His hand leaves her hair and trails over her shoulder, brushing against the skin at her throat.

"I swear your voice is magic." He whispers. He's still staring at her lips and when his eyes flicker to hers, they look almost black, flecks of gold swirling in their depths.

"When you sing, every time you moaned my name…" he's still staring into her eyes when he kisses her again, but when his name spills from her lips on a sigh, he groans and his eyes slip closed, his large hands picking her up, hands settled on her ass, her hands wrapped tightly around his neck.

He pushes her onto her back and then crawls onto the pool table above her, his long body stretched over hers, claiming her lips again, his thigh pressing between her legs. Her body pushes down onto his and he hisses, his lips detaching from hers to drop kisses over her shoulder and chest. His fingers trail to the back of her shoulder, tracing the tattoo there before untying the strap of her suit. She barely has time to register before her chest arches into him, his mouth sucking at one nipple and the fingers on one hand plucking hard at the other.

"Holy fuck,  _Finn_."

She's hot and wet between her legs and his thigh is pressing hard against her there, so she rubs herself against him, liking the friction, wanting her release, but more.

He growls and drops his hand to her hip, letting go of her breast briefly to mutter, "slow down, baby."

She whimpers again and his lips and teeth are back on her breast, nipping and sucking, marking her olive skin and she doesn't give a damn.

Somewhere in the haze of her mind she knows they're on Sam's parents' pool table. Their friends are all out at the pool. But now he's kissing the skin at her neck, his tongue cool as it laves the bites he leaves on her jaw and when his lips meet hers again, rational thought flies out the window.

_Shit._

Wait, wait.

She needs him to take his hands off her body for one second so she can think.

His hand leaves her hip and he moves his thigh that she's currently riding and presses his fingers to the soaked material of her swimsuit and all he has to do is shift just so…

She presses her lips together, shakes her head against the fireworks and pushes him off her.

He pushes himself up on both hands, staring down at her, hair way messier and lips swollen, eyes dark as he stares at her, questioning.

She really wants to tug him back down to her, her body practically calls out to him, her nipples are hard and begging for his tongue, his teeth, his fingers and she hurriedly crosses her hands over her chest again.

"We can't do this."

"Why?" he's still staring at her lips.

"Finn. I don't know you. I already slept with you once and that was because I was drunk."

"I was drunk too. So we're even. We aren't drunk now." He smirks. "I really, really want to kiss you again."

She whimpers, closing her eyes against the onslaught of emotions running through her body, angry because she's denying it any release.

"I have to go." She snaps.

She slaps his chest away and he sits up on his knees. He hops down from the table, hands outstretched to help and she bats his hands away and jumps down, hurriedly throwing the straps of her suit over her shoulder. She ignores the call of her name and hurries upstairs, away from temptation and the fact that she knows if she kissed him one more time, they'd end up naked together. Again.

* * *

"Whoa! So Porcelain's brother is that dude you slept with?" Santana asks.

"I didn't see it." Sam says. "Plus, I thought he was dating Quinn."

Rachel raises her eyebrows. "Quinn?"

"Yea. The blonde at the party. In the black one-piece?" he offers.

Santana whistles. "She was hot. If Brittany wasn't there, and if she were gay, I'd be bending her over the pool table downstairs. Trust."

Rachel hides her blush in her beer. She hadn't told them about her and Finn downstairs, but she's pretty sure the look Santana and Sam exchanged when she'd come back out to the party, claiming to be sick and wanting to go home was because they knew something happened. Finn coming outside not long after her, staring at the back of her head made Santana very suspicious.

"Are you ever going to tell us what happened between you two?"

"Nothing happened, San. He kinda saved me from Jesse. We talked a bit."

"Jesse was particularly upset when he came out of the kitchen." Santana smirks.

"Oh? I thought it was because he fell fully clothed into the pool? I told him around the edge was slippery." Sam says innocently.

"Funny then, how he actually seemed to be tossed from about five feet from the edge  _into_  the pool."

"Hmmm." Sam raises his beer to his lips and turns his twinkling eyes back to Rachel.

"So. Finn Hudson."

"Wait, you said they were brothers. How is it they have different names?" Santana queries.

"They're twins actually. Their mother got remarried when they were about three, their dad died in the Iraqi no-fly zone war. She married this guy with a bunch of garages and he adopted them, he's now a senator from Ohio." She repeated the information she'd gotten from Kurt; she hasn't spoken to Finn since the party and Kurt, Mercedes and Tina had all told her he was begging them for her number.

Both of her friends stare at her. "Uh huh. So one Finn Hudson. You like him, right?"

"Santana, I don't know him. I got drunk and slept with him."

"Oh, you know him alright." Sam grins.

"And it was good sex. As evidenced by the blush on your cheek every time we mention him." Santana grins.

"He's dating someone else." Rachel mutters.

"You don't know that. I said I thought he was. I could be wrong." Sam replies.

"And what if he is? What if I made him cheat?"

"Then he's an asshole and we can wash our hands of him." Santana snaps.

"And if he's single, and you two hook up and he wants to hook up, what's the matter?" Sam asks.

"I'm not very good at relationships." She mumbles.

"Why? Because of Jesse?"

She cringes. She doesn't try to deny it. They know enough.

"Jesse's a dick. Just because you wouldn't put out in high school doesn't make you bad at relationships. You've had what, three relationships since then?"

Rachel doesn't need to nod.

"Jesus, Rachel. Why do you let that ass have that much power over you? You don't even like him." Sam snaps.

They know what Jesse did. With the eggs, they fought with her on that one. They don't know the argument  _before_  the eggs. When Jesse told her that as pretty as she was, she would have to make some changes if she wanted to make it on Broadway. That women with her looks don't make it far in the business, and she needed to grow some backbone to succeed.

Santana or Sam never said anything like that to her. They supported her dreams nonstop. They defended her against cruel classmates and hecklers in the audience but they couldn't defend her from the realities of Broadway and its people. They couldn't protect her feelings from casting directors and producers. She was good. She had a powerful voice, but she didn't look  _like_  a star. She didn't look like any of the women gracing billboards and magazine covers and playbills as Broadway leads and her lack of call-backs was obvious.

She fought tooth and nail in class for every part in every production she landed, and she had the grades to prove it. But in the real world, fighting for each role she wanted wasn't easy, and she always came up empty-handed. What Jesse said sort of reinforced her doubts. And she hated that about herself.

Her friends were beautiful, Sam with his shaggy blonde hair, surfer-boy body and dazzling green eyes. Santana with her thick dark hair, caramel complexion and Latina spirit coupled with a curvy body and a syrupy voice. Compared to them, Rachel was… Rachel. She could sing. But she was too short, her nose was too big, her hands were too small, her breasts were too small. The only thing she never found fault with was her voice. They didn't know that.

"Jesse just, he understood what it'd be like out in the world for people with Broadway aspirations." She says quietly. Sam and Santana both frown.

"And?"

She hesitates. "And nothing. He just put some things in perspective is all."

She looks at her friends and raises her chin. "Finn's a nice guy. But I don't think we'd work out."

Finn had said she was unforgettable. They met at a dark bar in the early hours of the morning. She can't remember what it is he said to her, but even though she doesn't regret going home with him that night, she still felt a little guilty because a total stranger wanted her and she slept with him.

That he wants her still, is confusing. But he's a man, and men like sex, so maybe that's it. She decides she's not ready for a relationship right now. And she'll be better off staying away from Finn Hudson.

* * *

She nearly has a heart attack when she walks out of her bathroom a couple days later, wrapped in just a towel to see Finn Hudson lounging on the sofa with a beer at his lips.

Rachel shrieks in surprise and grips her towel tighter, he smirks and winks at her. Sam swivels his head around and grins. "Hey, Rach. What were you doing in the bathroom that long?"

He knows very well she went to the gym after her class today and some ass spilled Gatorade in her hair. She spent the past hour deep conditioning her locks and  _he agreed_ to order pizza so they could study together afterwards!

"Hey Rachel. Nice seeing you again." Finn gives her his lopsided smile.

She glares at both men then walks away to her room. She's in there long enough ranting and complaining as she gets dressed. Why is Finn here? She's been ignoring him ever since the party even though Santana and Sam think otherwise. She declines every offer they make to hang out where he'll be and she tries not to hang out at Kurt's apartment when she knows he'll be there. Her apartment was supposed to be a safe haven.

She won't study with Sam tonight; either Finn invited himself over or Sam invited him, either way, she plans on ignoring both men for the rest of the night.

Sam knocks on her door a little while later and she snaps him to go away.

She orders pizza from her room and then waits until she hears the doorbell. Pulling on the smallest pair of shorts she can find and a t-shirt, she walks from her room, opens the front door and pays for the pizza. The delivery guy's mouth practically falls to the floor and she grins, turning around to see a matching look on Finn's face; she almost swears she hears him groan.

Sam has his fist in his mouth as he tries to stifle his laughter and she glares as she drops his pizza on the coffee table before going back to the safety of her room.

Before she can close the door though, she hears Sam snort in laughter as he falls to the floor, she peeks her head back out and Finn has his face in his hands as he mutters, and Sam is holding his sides in quiet laughter.

* * *

She's lounging on the sofa one Sunday evening before exams start when there's a knock at the door. Santana's out with Brittany and Sam's in the shower. She's dressed in yoga pants and a tank top, her hair on top of her head so she doesn't think it warrants fretting about her appearance as she goes to open the door.

On the other side, leaning against the opposite wall is a man with a Mohawk, a guitar slung over his shoulder. He's whistling something but stops as she opens the door to him. He stares.

"Yes?"

Again with the staring. She makes to close the door and he straightens up quickly. "Hi. Um, Sam. Sam Evans in?"

She nods. "Wait here, please." She recognizes him as Finn and Sam's friend from the party but she's not letting him in her apartment. She bangs on the bathroom door.

"Sam. Some dude's here to see you."

"With a Mohawk?" he hollers back. "Let him in, it's Puck!"

She grunts, crosses her hands over her chest as she nods for Puck to come in. She feels his eyes on her as she walks over to the kitchen. He takes a seat on the couch as he waits for Sam, his guitar beside him.

"I'm Puck, by the way. I saw you at Sam's party. You're Rachel, right?"

She shouldn't be surprised that he knows her name, he and Finn are friends after all, and men talk.

"Yep. Can I get you anything?"

"A beer would be nice if you have one."

She hands him the beer then curls her legs under her on the arm chair in the corner, her eyes on the TV screen, ignoring Puck.

Sam comes out and drops a kiss on her head. "Rach, why don't you go get dressed? Let's go out."

"Out? Out where?"

"Go get dressed. Santana is already there waiting."

"There where?" she narrows her eyes at him.

"Rachel, can you please just go get dressed? We're wasting precious time here." He claps his hands and pulls her to her feet, steering her towards her room. Puck snorts and she glares at him. But she goes and gets dressed, hoping she doesn't regret tonight.

They grab a taxi and it stops outside a bar in Brooklyn. She's passed this bar a few times, but never went in. Santana and Mike are already there, Tina and Mercedes sitting beside them in the small booth.

Finn and the guy in the wheelchair, Artie are standing beside the stage and Finn whistles to get their attention. He waves at her and she turns and strides to the bar where Mike and Mercedes are grinning at her. She should have known Finn would have been here. Brittany waves at her and Santana throws her arms around her shoulder and pushes a beer towards her.

"Glad you could join us Berry." She knocks her bottle against Rachel's.

"And why am I here exactly? Sam basically dragged me out of the apartment."

Mercedes nods towards the stage. "Amateur night."

Rachel looks back at the stage and Sam's there, with his guitar. Finn's at the drums and Artie and Mike all have guitars too.

"They've been playing together since the party, they're pretty good. And it's Finn and Kurt's birthday."

She steels her features as she looks at the men on stage, her eyes glued to the drumsticks Finn is twirling in his fingers. He's leaning towards Artie with a broad grin on his face and she can make out the dimple on his cheek, beneath the scruff on his face. The man is too good-looking for his own good. She scowls and slouches in her seat. Blaine and Kurt come in and Kurt heads towards the stage after waving over at their table.

"What's going on?" She asks Blaine as he pulls up a chair beside her.

"Watch."

The guys are  _good_. And Finn can sing. Like, he's actually incredible on the drums but he's also an amazing singer. He looks over to their table, brings his lips close to the mic he's singing into and when he croons the lyrics to the song, he's staring right at her, his hands tapping away easily with the drumsticks. He winks at her and hits the drum kit again, the muscles in his arms flexing and bunching as he moves.

She tears her eyes away from him and tries to focus on the other men on stage. Mercedes is whistling at her fiancé on stage and Blaine is whooping for Kurt. Sam was always good on the guitar, and he has a nice voice, but he really didn't sing outside the shower. Puck keeps thrusting his hips around, it's kinda funny, and Artie is a genius on the strings. She comes back to Finn.

Really, it's like, he  _knows_  he's sexy and she knows he's trying to get her to go out with him. She's trying to resist, really but he's making it hard. Especially when he keeps on surprising her like this. He's basically eye-fucking her while he performs on stage and she's having really vivid flashbacks at how good he was, is, and can be. She's trying but… she's tempted.

* * *

Graduation was a cinch and after dinner with her fathers and Sam's family, they party well into the night at Joe's bar. He fills a bunch of shot glasses with Appleton and brings it to their table.

"You get just the one as congratulations Berry. I've got my eye on you tonight." He winks and the table laughs at her blush. Finn is there for a while with Kurt, Blaine, Mercedes, Mike and Tina and she's really surprised they all came to hers and Sam's graduation.

"Relax, Rachel. We're all proud of you, you really expected us to miss this?" Kurt asks, surprised. She shakes her head and smiles into her glass, her eyes drifting over to Finn as he jokes with Mercedes and Mike.

"He's still asking, you know." Tina whispers to her.

"All you have to do is say the word." Kurt offers.

She looks between them and shrugs, not sure how to answer, then tugs Sam up on the small makeshift stage to sing. She's a bit giddy and happy and her friends are around. Sam chooses a song and she tries to glare at him but he looks over at his fiancée with this look on his face and she turns to wink at Mercedes, then grabs a mic.

_When my head is strong but my heart is weak  
I'm full of arrogance and uncertainty  
When I can't find the words  
You teach my heart to speak  
You make it real for me_

Finn has this look of awe as he watches her sing. He whistles louder than everyone at the table and grins at them the entire song. And even after they get back to the table, he's still staring at her. She's used to the staring from them now, even if she's a little bit embarrassed since Puck and Artie all live at the same apartment where Finn and Kurt do; she assumes by now they all know she's the one who escaped Finn's room that morning.

She'll enjoy tonight but she can't get drunk because she has rehearsals later; her dreams for Broadway are closer than she can imagine and she doesn't need a distraction, no matter how gorgeous.

* * *

Rehearsals are a bitch. She's tired and her body aches, but she's come really far, so she'll suck it up. She's not the lead, but her character has three songs in the entire play and it's off-Broadway. Will Shuester is a song writing genius, and it's an original play that he's really proud of. She promises to do her best, even when her toes protest from too much dancing and she daydreams on stage of a very long bath.

When she gets home, Santana is asleep and Sam and Mercedes bid her goodnight as they leave so she relaxes in the tub with bath-salts, almost falling asleep until Tina calls for a girls' night.

Tina brings over dinner and they're halfway through Chinese food and  _Wicked_  when Kurt calls. Rachel tells him to drop by, bring dessert if he can. She barely refrains from rolling her eyes when Tina opens the door to see Kurt  _and_  Finn standing outside.

"He wanted to tag along, even when I told him it's a musical-filled girls' night." Kurt huffs. He walks to the kitchen and stuffs ice cream in the freezer and Rachel doesn't miss the look he shares with Tina.

"Musicals aren't that bad, Kurt. Isn't that what you're always trying to tell me?" Finn asks, dropping onto a bean bag chair, and unfolds his legs. He points to the food on the coffee table. "Egg rolls?"

"Vegetable." Tina replies.

"Oooh. May I?"

Tina hands it to him.

"Get a plate Finn." Kurt chastises. He walks back to the kitchen and pulls a plate and hands it to his brother.

"Who's older, by the way?" Rachel asks.

Tina and Finn point to Kurt who's back in the kitchen and she laughs, no wonder Kurt bosses him around so much. "Sometimes it sucks being the baby, huh?"

Finn makes a face and she and Tina laugh at him.

"You're the baby?"

"Only child. Sam and Santana are like my adopted siblings. They drive me crazy and embarrass me just the same." She answers.

"You're lucky. You didn't grow up listening to your brother arguing about show tunes and what not to wear in high school. Never having to fight for the last piece of pumpkin pie or being forced to wear dress suits to every rehearsal and recital." Finn mock-groans.

"Yes, she's lucky she never had a barbarian for a brother who didn't wash behind his ears and came home muddy from school every day, beating the living crap out of other boys on the football team and constantly covered in paint and charcoal. It's like you're still addicted to dirt." Kurt tosses a napkin at him as he sits primly beside Rachel on the sofa.

"You'd swear he's not potty-trained." She smirks at Kurt and dodges the messy napkin Finn throws back at his twin.

"You should've seen them growing up, Rachel. Opposite end of the spectrum. This," Tina points between the two of them, "is child's play."

"I thought we were watching a movie. Not going down memory lane." Finn says.

"We are. Would you like me to tell Rachel about your short-lived stint as  _Rocky Horror_?" Kurt grins as Finn blanches.

"Can we get back to  _Funny Girl_?" Finn says quickly, grabbing the first DVD he sees on the table. "Although I feel the musical was a lot better than the movie, I can't wait for them to do a revival. Though I'm not sure they can find anyone as awesome as Barbra Streisand for the lead role. Well." His eyes flicker quickly to hers and then back on his food, a slight blush darkening his cheeks.

She stares at him in awe and Kurt reaches over to push her mouth closed. She drops her face into her hand, mortified as Tina and Kurt laugh at her.

"I hate you both." She mutters to their laughter.

She turns her attention to the TV as Tina puts in  _Funny Girl_  and even when Santana wakes up and Sam comes home and they both claim spots in the living room, Finn still stays, talking and joking with her friends. Rachel peeks over at him, lounging easily on the chair, his long legs sticking out in front of him as he laughs with Sam.

Kurt nudges her with his elbow, his head tilted to the side as he looks at her.

Her blush is a dead giveaway.

* * *

She gets caught in the rain coming home from working at the music store one evening. She's basically five minutes from their apartment without an umbrella so she just hurries home. She lets herself into an empty apartment, has a hot shower and drinks some peppermint tea before heading to bed. Still, she wakes up the next morning to a stuffy nose, fever and a scratchy throat. She has rehearsals today and a shift at the store but she's really too tired to move; she has to fight to simply get out of bed.

She stands in the doorway of her bedroom contemplating how to get to the bathroom without falling to the floor and just going back to sleep. Santana walks from the kitchen and screams expletives, in Spanish, at her.

"Eso sí que no! Fuck no, Berry! You cannot be sick right now.  _I_  can't be sick right now; I have a presentation tomorrow afternoon!" She stalks to the bathroom and grabs the Lysol and glares at Rachel as she stomps past. So yea, Santana doesn't do sick people.

Sam on the other hand, is completely clueless when it comes to women being sick; he offers her tea and food and even some vodka to break the fever. She rolls her eyes at him.

"Just, can you let my boss know that I feel like the walking dead? Someone needs to call Mr. Shuester too." She turns around and crawls back into bed, planning to hide out from the world until her head is de-clogged.

When she wakes up again it's sometime in the afternoon and there's a washcloth over her forehead. She turns her eyes and groans.

"Not fair, you're stalking me when I'm  _sick_  now?"

Finn chuckles and lifts the wet cloth from her head. "No, I'm not stalking you."

"Why are you here?" she croaks out.

He lifts a glass of water with a straw to her lips and she wants to moan in relief but just closes her eyes and drinks. He puts the cloth back and it's cooler now.

She opens her eyes and blinks slowly up at him. He's really making this staying-away-from-Finn-because-you're-not-supposed-to-be-attracted-to-him thing hard. He rubs his thumb against her cheek and her eyes close again, too tired to try and argue with him.

He nudges her awake sometime later and gestures to the spoon in his hand. "I'm supposed to make you eat this."

She tries to sit up and her body refuses, everywhere just aches. He puts the bowl of soup onto the night-table beside her and gently props her up on the pillows, brushing her hair away from her forehead.

"Better?"

She nods.

He smiles and picks up the soup, holding the spoon up to her lips.

She eyes the spoon and then frowns at him. "You're not trying to poison me, are you? Slip me some love potion or something that will strip my talents away?"

He laughs, his eyes crinkling as his shoulders shake in laughter. "No." He shakes his head. "Listen, Sam called Mercedes for advice and she called Kurt to come over, who called me."

"I should've known Kurt was behind this." She grumbles.

He laughs again. "No. Kurt came over with me, I had to pick him up, but he decided since you weren't actually dying, despite the moaning you made in your sleep – by the way, you still sound sexy even though you're sick – he could go back to work. I opted to stay behind, nothing better doing anyway."

She blushes and rolls her eyes. "So, you figured you play nurse?"

"Well, I've heard tell that the more attractive the caregiver, the quicker the patient gets better." He smiles smugly.

She really can't help her laughing at him. "Cocky much?"

He raises an eyebrow and smirks at her and if she had any strength in her arm, she'd punch him.

"Kurt and Mercedes will both kill me if I don't take care of you, so please eat? I'll even read you my favourite story, guaranteed to make you feel better, and if you're a good girl, I'll even sneak in some carrot cake." He winks at her.

She smiles and nods her head towards the bowl in his hands.

"Awesome." His hands still shake as he puts the spoon towards her mouth, though. He feeds her and she lets him wipe at her mouth and no, she's not imagining the look in his eyes when his fingers touch her. Every time. She decides she was wrong before.

Santana and Sam poke their head in to check on her when they get home and she glares at them until they stick their heads back out.

Finn spends the rest of the evening reading to her. She laughs when he makes the voices of the monsters in  _Where the Wild Things Are._  She still has a headache, but her fever's not so bad anymore. He was better than Tylenol.

...


	3. third

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So, now that they've met each other, what next?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finn & Rachel won't shut up in my head. Also, I made up my own off-Broadway show because I needed a tie-in for the title, whoops.
> 
> Disclaimer: Only RIB and their talents can claim ownership of Glee, I just change their lives around a lil bit to suit my fancy.

She's in the apartment running lines one evening. Santana is at a workshop and Sam's somewhere with Mercedes. She pretty sure in a couple of weeks she and Santana may need to find a new roommate, because all signs point to Sam going to live with Mercedes in LA. She's happy for them though.

It's pouring buckets outside hard enough that she can barely hear herself singing so she gives up, dancing to the kitchen, and decides to make cookies to past the time. She has all the ingredients on the counter when someone starts banging on the door over the noise of the rain.

Finn is dripping rainwater all over their welcome mat, his hands on either side of the door when she opens it.

"Finn!"

"Rachel."

She steps aside to let him in but then his hands are on her hips and he's bending his head and kissing her. She's surprised for all of three seconds before she just gives in, melts into the kiss and into his arms, her fingers curling into his jacket, and she feels him smiling against her mouth. He pulls her flush against him and his clothes are literally soaked, but she really doesn't care.

He hoists her up by her waist and her legs automatically wrap around him, one of the perks of their height difference. He uses one hand to push the door closed then presses her against it, his lips insistent against hers, wet skin against hot.

"Jesus, I've missed this." He breathes, dropping his head to suckle at the skin at her neck. Her head falls back against the door and between her moans and his groans she tries to figure out why she told herself she didn't want  _this_.

His hat is soaked, so she tugs that off and tosses it away, burying her fingers in his slick hair as he kisses her neck. He drops one hand down her shoulder, splays across her back, his pinkie scraping across her skin. His finger slips underneath her top and he spreads his kisses from her neck across her shoulder, pulling her closer to him so he can kiss the tattoo he seems to be obsessed with on her back. His lips feel amazing on her skin but he's the only one having any fun. She wants to taste his skin too.

She pushes at his jacket and he leans back; she supports herself against the door and pulls at his shirt once he shrugs out of the wet jacket.

"This too." She murmurs. He smirks and complies, his lips back on hers as soon as the shirt is over his head and tossed to the side. She sighs happily and wraps her arms around his shoulders, her fingers trailing down his tattoo, he's ticklish at the small of his back where the tattoo ends and as she lightly scratches her nails over his spot his hips rock up into her lower body and he bites down hard onto her top lip.

She grins and digs her fingers into his back again, and she can feel his hardness move beneath her; she smirks at him when he pulls back to growl at her.

"Stop that."

He kisses her hard, his hands scratching roughly at her hips before reaching up to pull the straps of her top down. His skin is cool from the rain and hers is always ridiculously hot so when their chests press together, her nipples are immediately hard. He runs his hands up and down her arms, and she reaches between them, her fingers making quick work of his belt and the clasp on his jeans and soon he has one hand wrapped around her as he kicks first one foot off and then the other, his pants making a wet sound as they fall somewhere to the side.

She licks the rain from his face; his hair is still dripping wet and he buries his face in her neck, his fingers skilfully pinching at her nipples and she moans his name into his ear.

They're both half-naked against the front door and should probably be moving away from the living room and towards her bedroom, because rule number one the trio agreed on was no fucking in the common areas. But Finn's lips were on hers again, one hand at her breast and the other hand rubbing along her thighs and she sends a silent apology to her roommates because she was almost sure they weren't going to make it.

"Babe? Exactly how attached to these shorts are you?" he asks between his kiss. She can't remember what she's wearing just that she can  _feel_  Finn beneath her and she'd really like it if her clothes disappeared, like, right now.

"Huh?"

He snickers again and puts both his hands at her waist and literally tears her shorts, and her panties, from her body, his lopsided grin in full effect at her gasp.

She should be mad; he just ripped her clothes apart. Instead, she finds it strangely erotic and his hard body is pressing into her softness so she grabs his head in her hands and crushes her lips against his, her tongue sweeping into his mouth. He hums appreciatively and runs his hands on the outside of her thighs.

She pulls away from him a little and her smile is devilish as he groans in protest.

"I know you're probably a fan of a lot of foreplay and all that, but I would be remiss if we could skip all that an- _ohhhh sweet Jesus."_  Her breath hitches as he slips one long finger inside her.

He drops his forehead against hers and laughs lightly as she curses again. "Shhhhh. Too much talking."

She tries to nod, her eyes slipping closed as one finger, then two moves inside her slowly, his thumb working at her soft flesh.

Her head drops back against the door again and she clutches at his shoulders as his fingers disappear and then he's pressing inside her, his hips moving slowly forward. She cries out softly; it's a delicious feeling, him spreading her, and she can feel her toes tingling.

"Rach." He whispers. She makes a funny sound and he touches the side of her face. "Look at me please?"

She forces her eyes open and her body flushes with heat at the look in his eyes. He's searching for something, she doesn't know what, but he's not moving and she really wants him to move. She bites her lip and rocks against him and his eyes close as he puts one hand on her hip to still her movement.

" _Fuck_ , just – baby, please…" he lets out a shuddered breath, "you feel so fucking good- just," he grunts, "gimme a sec, will you?"

No, she can't. Because, this feels really, really good and now her body remembers how good, and  _seriously?_

"Finn." She whines. She leans forward and nips at his ear, her tongue tracing it before she breathes again. "Please."

So, yea, that worked.

He grunts and rests his forehead against her neck, one hand on the door for balance, the other holding her hip and pulls away achingly slow, pushing forward and away again. He drops kisses against her shoulder, on her neck before latching onto a spot behind her ear, she didn't even know about  _that_  as his hips keep pushing onto hers.

She can't even bother to be embarrassed at the sounds she's making, she knows she's loud, but the louder she gets, the harder her moves and even after she's screaming through her orgasm, his hips are still moving. He has one hand behind her head, his eyes heavy-lidded as he stares at her. Their bodies are sweaty and the room is hot and he's looking like her like she's a painting on display.

He leans forward and kisses her swiftly, biting at her chin and then running his nose along her cheek.

"Baby, I love your voice." He breathes, kissing her again.

Her body starts tingling again and she just came down from her first high and she can already feel the heady pressure building again. His fingers dig harder into the skin at her waist, painfully so but it feels so,  _so_ good. She presses her legs into his back as she moves atop him and turns her face fully into his kiss.

"Finn." She breathes out against his lips and he moans, his hips jerking hard into her. Her head falls back against the door and Finn starts sucking at her neck, marking her skin. It feels so fucking good.

"Rachel." He grunts, dropping his hands between her legs.

" _Rachel!_ "

She jerks awake to Santana shaking her shoulder and smirking at her when she opens her eyes.

"Fuck, I didn't want to disturb that obviously fuck-hot dream you were having, but, uh, you have rehearsals in an hour. And I know how you are about sch-  _OW! RACHEL!"_ Santana escapes the room cackling, her hands shielding her from whatever Rachel can find and throw at her.

" _Sorry! If I'd known Finn was_ that _good I'd have called in an excuse for your rehearsals, claiming a pulled muscle or something!"_ Santana shouts back, laughing.

Rachel drops onto the bed, pulling the covers over her face. Now she's  _dreaming_ about Finn? Her body feels hot, her nipples are hard and between her legs she's wet and throbbing. This is just ridiculous!

She gets up and drags herself to the bathroom, shoving Sam aside as he comes out of his room. "Whoa, what did  _I_ do?"

Santana opens her mouth to speak and Rachel jabs a finger at her, glaring. "One word. I swear to God I'll…"

She's too mad to come up with a satisfying threat, but Santana mimes zipping her mouth shut, an almost apologetic smile on her face. Rachel stomps to the bathroom, too wired up to think straight about anything besides Finn, and those fucking fingers.

* * *

Mercedes and Tina fly in for Finn's gala showing and Kurt insists on taking them all shopping. Finn's graduated and all but he and a few of his classmates had decided to sell some their final work to some galleries, plus he was over the moon because he'd scored an internship at one of the galleries in Manhattan.

Santana refuses to go with them this time, however, glaring at Kurt as her, Mercedes and Tina sit at his kitchen table.

"No offense, you're a dressing room Nazi. How about Brit and I go dress shopping and I'll send you a picture of our choices? That way you still have final say about your cohesiveness and I don't get to go to prison for voluntary manslaughter." She says with false sweetness.

Rachel snorts into her tea and Mercedes and Tina exchange a glance at the dismissive look on Kurt's face. "Fine. But, please, no black."

Santana glares at him again before hopping off the counter and stalking to the door. "You could always do red again, works wonders with your personality!" Kurt calls after her.

Santana flips him off and opens the front door, stepping around Finn who was about to open it. "You owe me." She warns him and flounces off.

"Uh, why?" He turns to the room and Rachel blushes. He's wearing that freaking beanie she saw in her dream. "Why do I owe her?"

Kurt waves him towards the door. "Don't worry about it. Ladies, let's go. You too, brother dear, you need to look presentable for tomorrow evening." She doesn't protest this time, since she's practically pressed into Finn's side as the elevator makes its way down.

* * *

So, Finn's parents are staring at her, from the second he and Kurt introduce their parents to their group of friends who'd come out to support Finn. Twice, she turns to Sam and Santana to check if there was something on her face. She figures his friends were staring at her because they now know she was the girl who crept out on Finn that time, but his parents?

"Rachel." His mother, Carole, smiles at her. "Finn tells me you're a singer?"

She turns her eyes to him briefly and she can see the reddening of his ears and Kurt's smirk from the corner of her eye. She nods to the older woman. "Yes. I do have a degree in the performing arts; I'm hoping to be on Broadway one day."

"Broadway? Finn wanted to be on Broadway. If he wasn't banging on those drums or drawing, he was singing at the top of his lungs and clumsily dancing to Kurt's DVDs." Burt, the twins' stepfather pitches in. Sam coughs and Santana pats his back. She turns around to glare at both of them and they both smile winningly back at her.

"Don't worry. His dancing skills aren't that perfect, hence he stuck to the drums." Kurt assures her. She looks over at Finn and he's deliberately staring at a blank wall.

"Everyone's talented in their own way. And Finn's paintings are remarkable." She says. She sees him flick his eyes towards her. "I think Finn has gifted fingers."

She doesn't miss the smile tugging at the side of his mouth for the rest of the night, or the way he and his brother effortlessly stroll through the room, like they own it. She ends up talking to his mother and Tina for most of the night and they tell her he's been drawing from he was little and that he was teased a lot in school because he played football, sung with the glee club, was a part of the visual arts club and had a gay twin.

"His art was his way of expressing himself. And he was good. I have scrapbooks full of his drawings and his paintings are all over the house." Carole says proudly. "He and Noah got suspended for one week for beating up some guys who threw Kurt in the garbage and he spent the entire time in the garage painting. He gave one to his stepfather to put in the office and someone saw, asked about the artist and he got the scholarship to Columbia, barely in his senior year."

Tina snorts. "Yep. We all got drunk as we celebrated and he disappeared with this chick named Harmony for the whole night. Quinn Fabray was pissed."

Carole's eyes twinkles. "I should have told your mother, Tina Cohen-Chang. Getting drunk in my house?"

Tina grins and wraps her arm around Carole. "Ah, Mrs. H. You were the cool mom. Plus you had cookies. And got your garage cleaned spotless afterwards."

Finn's mother laughs and puts her hand around Tina's waist and turns to Rachel smiling. "You'd think I had five kids instead of the two. Tina, Quinn and Noah practically lived at my house. They all decided to come to New York together. I'm proud of each of them."

Rachel smiles as she watches Carole with Finn and his friends. It's effortless and easy how she reacts with them, like she's been doing it all her life, which she has. She feels a pang of jealousy as Tina and Carole share a joke and the way Finn has his arm around his mother. She doesn't know her own mother, and she stopped asking her father about the woman who gave birth to her. She never made the effort to find her, and she had done pretty well without her over the years; she had Santana's mother and Sam's mother. They were glad to step in.

Still.

Santana and Sam appear on either side of her. "I know you think you missed out on a lot sometimes. But you still turned out kinda awesome." Santana says, nudging her with her shoulder and follows Rachel's gaze to Finn and Carole.

"But, it's never too late to get  _something_." Sam grins. "And not all mother-in-laws are horrible." Rachel rolls her eyes at her friends and smiles softly, her gaze going back to Finn.

He ends up selling every single painting he had on display, but she doesn't remember the silhouette drawing being among them. She meant to ask him, but then his father is shouting out driving arrangements to the restaurant for dinner and Kurt pats her hand to assure her that yes, he made sure they had a vegan-friendly menu. She smiles at him, momentarily distracted when Finn puts his hand on the small of her back as he leads them towards a taxi.

* * *

"I swear on all that is holy tall men make me horny."

She's pretty sure that's the alcohol talking; she's very much willing to blame it on the alcohol, except, well, she's been drinking cranberry juice all night, aside for the one glass she had mixed with vodka. Someone has to be the responsible one here. Santana and Tina snicker at her and she doesn't even bother to glare at them this time around, it's useless and they will continue to tease her so she just turns her attention to Finn and Noah standing by the bar.

Her show opens in two days and then Sam and Mercedes move to LA in a week. Mike got a job teaching dance at a school in SoHo and Tina found freelance work with a magazine in Manhattan, so one couple moves back and the other moves away. It was bittersweet.

"I can see you thinking Rachel, stop it." Mercedes comes over and throws her arm around her. "This is our last weekend to get crazy. Your show starts in two days woman, why aren't you living it up?"

"Her panties are in a twist!" Santana laughs, winking at Rachel.

"Santana!"

"It's true! Seriously Rachel, with all the eye-fucking between you two, why not just go for it? Obviously you both want to. If I have to hear Finn go on and on and on about you, I'll kill him and no one will fault me for it." Tina gripes.

Rachel blushes, fighting her smile. "You know, peer pressure is a form of bullying and I don't appreciate you all trying to make me do something I do not want to do." She says dipping her pinkie finger in her glass. She tries to keep her gaze from going back to Finn.

"Do you listen to yourself when you speak? Because everything you just said is bullshit." Santana snaps.

"Except for the bullying part." She glares back.

Santana throws back her head and laughs. "I'm not a bully. I just tell the truth, however awful it may seem. And you love me for it." She grabs onto Brittany as her girlfriend passes by with a tray of drinks. "Dance with me baby!"

Brittany waves at the table and pulls her away, Santana smirks at them as she dances off. Rachel watches them for a beat as they dance together, pressed close on the dance floor and almost every man in the club is staring at them.

She catches Finn looking at her, downs her drink and stares back at him.

"Atta girl." Mercedes whisper-shouts over to her.

So she gets up, walks to a side door and turns to look back at Finn. He has his glass in his hand, eyes following her as she moves through the crowd. She doesn't need to look back when she slips outside to know he's right behind her because soon he has her against the wall, bodies pressed up close, lips hot and insistent against hers.

She grips his shirt tight as he tries to pull away.

"As much fun as this promises to be, I'd r _eally_  prefer if it happened when we're both very much coherent as to what's going on." He breathes, pressing his forehead against hers. "We have a very bad track record with alcohol and well," he kisses her again, hard.

"I haven't been drinking. You're the one knocking back whiskey with Noah all night."

"Have you seen your skirt, Rachel?  _Jesus!_  Those things should be illegal." He mutters. "Puck has had to literally restrain me from dragging you away, all night." His hand settles on her legs, teasing the hem of her skirt.

"And yet you're out here with me, in the dark. I can easily take advantage of you."

He kisses her in agreement and groans. "Yes, please."

"Yes. No. We should stop." She whispers. She has him pressed against the wall now, stretching up on her toes to meet his kiss and if they're planning to stop, he has to move his hands from her ass first if he really needs her to agree with him.

"OK." His tongue runs along her bottom lip and when she sighs it slips in to meet hers. His hand moves down to join his other hand on her ass and she can feel him throbbing against her belly. She's wearing a skirt, so you know, easy access.

She moans and pulls away, he bends to try and kiss her again and she puts her hand between their mouths, his lips pressing into her palm.

"Rach."

She shakes her head. "Come. We're going back inside. And we're going home separately." She states, stepping away from him.

He pouts.

"Yea, that's not going to work. Future Broadway star, remember?" She points to herself. "I'm the master of the puckered lips." She says. His eyes drift down to her lips again and she rests both hands on his chest, tempted to give in again. She volleys between kissing him and pulling him back inside and has to give herself a pep talk to  _step away from the sexy_  and tug his hands back towards the door. If they're going to take a chance at whatever's happening between them, she wants them both to be sober when that chance comes.

* * *

 _Phoenix Rising_  is a hit.

Will Shuester jokes that maybe they'll be able to move the show to Broadway sooner than expected and she's inclined to agree; the story is incredible and the cast was fantastic in the opening night's performance. Sam, Santana, Mercedes, Brittany, Kurt, Blaine, Finn, Noah, Tina, Mike and her fathers are all seated in a row together and even after the two leads take another bow, their applause for her, way back in the chorus is almost louder than for the rest of the cast.

"You need your own show." Will says afterwards. "You were fantastic."

Her fathers each hand her a bouquet of flowers, a blue orchid at the centre of each. It's a running joke in her family and as old as she is, she loves that they still remember.

"You were fantastic, sweetheart." Her daddy says, kissing her hair, his arms wrapped around her shoulders. Her dad lifts her in his embrace, spinning them around while she squeals. She giggles and he holds her close once her feet are on the ground again.

"Amazing, Star. You belong on that stage." Her dad has tears in his eyes as he kisses both her cheeks and she laughs happily when they both envelope her in hugs.

"Oy! Make way!" Santana pulls her from her father's embrace. "I want an autograph. This shit will be gold on eBay one day." She grins at her friend and kisses her forehead. "Always knew you had it in you mi amiga! Increíble en el scenario!" Santana shouts happily.

Sam pulls her from Santana's arms and whispers she was epic in her performance. Kurt and Mercedes gush over her afterwards and Tina wraps her arm around her shoulders, winking proudly. Noah fist-pumps her and Mike high fives her, his smile smug when he says he now knows a bona fide Broadway star.

"It's still off Broadway Mike!" she laughs when he hugs her.

"Doesn't matter Rach! You didn't see yourself on stage tonight. You belong there, anyone can see that." He winks at her and pulls her close to his chest again.

She ends up in Finn's arms next and he hands her a small bouquet of calla lilies and baby's breath. Her arms are filled with flowers from almost everyone but somehow the one he gives her means the most. He presses his lips by her ear. "You were great tonight." He whispers.

She pulls back and smiles at him. He seems almost shy as he looks at her, nervously rubbing the back of his neck when he smiles back.

"Thank you." She says quietly, bringing his bouquet up to her nose. His cheeks darken when she does.

Afterwards, they go back to Joe's bar to celebrate and her fathers' leave early, stating they're getting too old and don't want to infringe on party time. "Have fun sweetie. You deserve this." He daddy kisses her cheek again and her dad tucks a flower behind her hair when he hugs her.

She waves them off outside with Sam and then he drags her back inside, hitting the counter and demanding a round of shots for their table. He grabs Mercedes and tugs her up towards the stage, his arms wrapped around her as they sing together.

"So, what with the flower?" Finn asks, motioning to the orchid pinned beside her ear. She blushes and drops her face. She pressed into his side at their crowded booth, everyone around them laughing and drinking.

"It's this thing with my dads. When I was younger I used to play dress up, one of my teddy bears was always Prince Charming and my bouquet would always be a bunch of plastic flowers I got from this fair. It had a blue orchid in the middle, and every time I played it had to be there. I moved from dress up to performing and practicing my Tony speech and my bouquet moved right along with me." She laughs.

"My dad's starting buying them every time I went performed stage, it kinda became tradition. Even though, symbolically blue orchids are supposed to represent love and beauty and are traditionally placed in wedding bouquets." She blushes and grips her drink again. Sometimes she really talks too much.

Finn laughs. "So maybe one day you'll stop playing dress-up and have a blue orchid after your own Tony win. Or even in your own wedding bouquet. Right?" He nudges her hand and grins.

She's not sure he knows what he just said but the idea flashes through her mind and she can actually see herself married to Finn in the future. Her face gets red and she rubs at her cheek, dropping her hair to hide her face again.

"So." He starts.

She doesn't dare look up at him.

"I was kinda hoping, ah, next Friday, would you like to have dinner with me?"

* * *

She's having dinner with Tina and Kurt after he shows them around the design studio he's working at. He's in his element and practically over the moon that one day his own designs will be on the shelves. He makes them agree to be his models when that day comes. All throughout dinner he argues his point, despite their protests.

"You do realize Rachel and I are barely five feet, right? We're like the opposite of what you people use as models." Tina smirks.

"Says who?"

Rachel taps the magazine on the table. "Kind of the whole fashion world."

Kurt frowns. "Well, I'm not the entire fashion world, am I? I'm Kurt Hummel and my fashion will stand out because everyone can wear them." He gets this determined look on his face and a twinkle in his eye. Which usually mean she's about to regret something.

"The four of you can be my blueprint."

"Which four?" she and Tina ask at the same time.

"The two of you, Finn and Mercedes." He grins.

"Uh, what now?" Rachel asks. She sighs heavily and lets him go off on a tirade about the inequality in the fashion world and she and Tina nearly applaud when Blaine walks into the restaurant. Before he can say anything though, Kurt's cell phone rings and he eyes it evilly.

"Yes, hello?" he sighs. "This is he."

She watches the colour drain from his face as he closes his eyes. "Yes, that's my brother." Rachel doesn't even realize she's gripping Tina's hand in hers until Tina signals a waitress for their check and then pats her hand reassuringly.

Blaine has his hand on Kurt's shoulder and then Kurt lets out a breath, thanks the caller and hangs up. "Finn's hurt; he's at New York-Presbyterian at Columbia."

They hail and cab and soon she's hurrying behind Kurt and Blaine as they walk down a corridor of the emergency room. Finn's lying in bed with his eyes closed, a bandage over his cheek and a sheet tucked around his torso, long legs hanging over the edge of the bed. Kurt walks over and smacks him on the arm.

Finn opens one eye to glare at his brother and she'd laugh, but she's a little, well, a lot nervous.

"Ow." He retorts, his hand rubbing where Kurt hit him. His brother sighs and presses his lips to Finn's forehead. She can see their little twin dynamic as they hold some kind of silent conversation before Kurt steps back and scowls again.

"How the hell did you manage to get mugged? You're like 6'3" and built like a line-backer!"

"Not me dude." He nods tiredly to the bed beside his and there's a slim blonde girl curled up on her side facing away from them.

"Quinn?" Tina says.

Rachel doesn't know Quinn, never met her, but she's heard about her.

Tina walks over and touches the girl's shoulder and she stirs and looks up at the other girl. Quinn looks over her shoulder at the others, her voice quiet and scratchy as she greets them. Her green eyes linger on Rachel.

"How're you feeling Quinn?" Tina asks, touching her shoulder gently.

She looks worse off than Finn does: split lip, her cheek was swollen, her right arm was covered in a cast and she has scratches and bruises on her arms and legs. "Like Laila Ali whooped my behind. Thank God for my knight in armour." She jokes and smiles at Finn.

"She was waiting on me downstairs when some guys jumped her, roughed her up some. When I ran downstairs they had her at the side of the building and someone hit me from behind with a something." He frowns. "There was a lot of blood. I really don't like blood."

He closes his eyes again and Kurt's hand reaches out to brush his hair from his forehead. "Mom's gonna kill you for getting yourself hurt. Honestly, you don't need to play superhero you know. Your head may be hard but you're not invincible."

Finn snorts and one side of his mouth lifts in a smile.

"I have a date with Rachel on Friday." He says suddenly and his smile widens. "Crap." His eyes fly open and he sits up in bed, rocks and little and moans, "Ow."

When he lifts one hand to his face, she sees the bruised knuckles and the tape wrapped around two of his fingers. She gasps a little – she's not one for pain – and his eyes turn at directly to her.

"Rachel?" He squeaks. Blaine and Kurt snicker.

She steps over to him and gives him a small smile. "You alright?" Her eyes flicker to the bandage on his cheek then back to his.

"Tough head." He jokes. She nods and looks down on at his hands. Both knuckles are bruised and scraped, fingers wrapped up tight.

"Looks like you put up a helluva fight." She murmurs. When she blinks her eyes are wet. It's ridiculous really, that she's tearing up over something so silly and she hurriedly brushes them away before anyone can see.

"Yea, well, my friend was getting hurt, I had to help. But I'm OK." He says, his index finger reaching out to touch her hand. She looks up at him again and he gives her this smile, one she's only seen one other time, like he saves it just for her. "I'm alright. And really looking forward to our date."

From the corner of her eye she can see Quinn frown, then raise her fingers to touch her lips.

She clears her throat to speak again. "Are they releasing both of you tonight?" she composes her face before turning to the girl in the other bed.

"Hi Quinn, I'm Rachel."

Quinn nods and lies back down, closing her eyes. "I know."

The doctor comes back to check on them, and hands Finn and Quinn each prescriptions for painkillers. He spends some time talking to Quinn about the cast on her hand and Finn sits up, pulling the sheet from his upper body. She bites her lip at the bruises on his chest and at the bandage wrapped around him.

"Finn." Kurt reprimands.

"It only hurts if I laugh." He says cheekily.

"Don't make me smack you again."

Blaine tugs his t-shirt off and hands it to Finn, his brother helping him to put his hands carefully in the sleeves. His eyes are closed and his face is pained when he puts his hands back down and she moves closer to him, rubbing her knuckles on his cheek.

He opens his eyes and blinks at her, smiling. She doesn't think they'll have their date on Friday, he's in no shape to move really. He's giving her that smile again and she almost forgets everyone else in the room, Quinn included, until Kurt sighs again.

"Big baby."

* * *

Jesse shows up at her rehearsal the afternoon she's supposed to meet Finn for their lunch date. He sits in the audience and stares at her the entire time and when she's sitting in the dressing room with the other ladies taking a break he pops his head in and calls her out.

She glares at him as she gets up and stalks outside. She stops as she sees Will standing there, a script in his hand.

"Will?"

"Rachel! Jesse just came by with some incredible news!" he grins.

Her eyes flit to him and back to Will. "What kind of news?"

 _Bye, Bye Birdie_ was alwaysanother favourite musical of hers. And April Rhodes, Tony-winning actress of Sally Brown fame from  _Charlie Brown_  was trying to bring it back, with Jesse as Albert and she wants Rachel as Rosie. It'd be off-Broadway, but if all goes well and according to both Jesse and Will, it should be on Broadway by early next year.

She doesn't know if she should be excited or hesitant. Both Will and Jesse are happy over the news and keep stressing that this is what she wants, to make her move towards the Broadway stage. She's already given up her job at the music shop, her time spent at the workshop blend into the wee hours of the morning and it wasn't fair to her manager there. By the time  _Phoenix Rising_ closes she could walk right into rehearsals for  _Birdie,_ with a couple weeks off between.

"She wants a few more people from here to audition for other roles, but Rachel, if you want the role, it's already yours." Jesse smiles. "We're holding a meeting in a bit to discuss."

She wants to smack the smile from his face, but then again, he might like it. She sits down on a chair and drops her chin onto her palm. He walks over to sit beside her and touches her shoulder.

"Just think about it, it's a fantastic opportunity and we all know you're perfect for the role."

She dislikes Jesse yes, but, it's Broadway. She nods slowly and shrugs at Will; she's about to slap Jesse's hand from her shoulder when she looks up to see Finn standing near the entry doors, staring at them.

"Hey, Finn!" she calls happily, jumping up to walk to him.

He looks from her to Jesse, his face impassive. She looks back at Jesse then back to him. "Don't mind him. He was actually dropping by to talk to Will. I'm trying to be nice."

He gives her a smile that doesn't quite meet his eyes and nods. "Shall we go?"

She frowns and bites her lip. She looks back over her shoulder before she speaks. "Actually, we have a cast meeting." She closes her eyes and sighs. "Will and Jesse apparently have some grand idea to make me one of the leads in a revival another theatre-house is producing. I told them I'd think about auditioning. Jesse is psyched about it though."

She's not lying, not really. But after barely a month's run of Will's play and Jesse dropping by with this opportunity, she doesn't know what to make any decisions now. Besides, its Jesse.

"Oh." Finn's face falls.

"I'm hoping we can do dinner, if you don't have plans? I could cook?" she offers.

"Rachel!" Jesse calls from behind her and she wants to tell him to kiss her ass but Will calls out to the cast as well. "Meeting in ten, people!"

Finn nods. "Go. I'll talk to you later."

"You sure? I'd really like to see you tonight."

He smiles again, but it's only a shadow of his usual smile; he squeezes her hand and leaves.

* * *

She calls Finn to reschedule their lunch date and he doesn't answer. She leaves a message and asks him to call her when he gets the chance.

She hears nothing for a week and a half. She stops by the apartment with Tina to get Kurt's opinion on Mercedes' bachelorette party and he walks in with Noah and Blaine while they're all there. He grunts in greeting and stalks to his bedroom. She raises her eyebrows at his closed door and turns surprised eyes to his brother.

"Is he alright?"

Kurt waves her off. "He's just being an insolent prick."

Blaine snickers from behind them at the counter. Rachel frowns.

"I called him to reschedule our lunch date the other day and he never called me back. Matter of fact, I haven't spoken to him since the day he came by the theatre."

Kurt shrugs. "Maybe its work? You know how some artists get moody at times. Give him time."

"Or maybe Berry needs to let off some on our boy again. Maybe his high is wearing off." Noah snickers from the couch. She narrows her eyes at the back of his head and flings a book at him, a satisfied smile spreading across her face when it hits him.

"Ow! Fuck." He curses, turning to glare at her. She sticks her tongue out at him and he picks the book up to throw back at her when Finn's door opens.

She stares at him and he avoids her eyes. "Yo, Hudson. Calm your girl." Noah points at her.

"She's not -," He glares at Puck. "Don't be a dick, man." And then he stomps off to the bathroom.

"Ahm, OK then." She blinks at Tina in confusion.

* * *

So, Finn's basically not talking to her. No phone calls, he's never there when she stops by the apartment, he doesn't show up for any movie nights with her, Tina and Santana, not even when Kurt drops by.

And Kurt doesn't say anything. He just shrugs and shakes his head. "My brother likes to jump to conclusions when he's ready. And more often than not, he's always wrong."

"What's that supposed to mean? Did I do or say something?"

"No. Finn just needs to grow up a little, is all." Kurt nods, ending the conversation.

Quinn is at their apartment a couple days later; answering the door when Rachel drops by to see Kurt again.

"Quinn, hi."

The other woman looks at her and steps aside, a small smile on her face.

"How's the arm?"

Quinn lifts her arm, still in the cast. "Almost healed. I get it off in three weeks."

"Good, good. Ah, Kurt here?"

Quinn points to his room. "He's getting dressed."

Rachel nods and doesn't say anything else; she keeps her head straight as she knocks on Kurt's door. The door behind her opens and she doesn't need to turn around to know Finn's staring at her. Kurt opens his door with a smile and she pushes him in, locking the door quickly behind her.

She doesn't say anything and when they leave Kurt's room, Finn and Quinn are gone. She stares out the window of the taxi as they head towards Tina's apartment, silent, feeling Kurt's stare on her face.

"What?" She sighs.

"You know that's nothing right? Quinn being at the apartment? We've all been friends for a long time Rachel."

She turns to him. "And you're going to tell me they never went out? They never had feelings for each other?"

Kurt frowns for a second and then nods. She laughs lightly and shakes her head turning back to look out the window. "But. They stopped dating long before we all came to New York. She hangs out with us most of the time; it's really nothing."

"She still loves him."

Kurt doesn't disagree with her.

...


	4. fourth

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> These two just like to fight against the grain. Finally, they're getting their shit together!

They get into a lot of trouble at Mercedes' bachelorette party. Kurt has someone's shorts around his head, throwing dollar bills at a stripper on stage; Tina has some guy licking tequila off her stomach; Mercedes has a guy gyrating on her lap and Rachel hides her face when another guy starts dancing in front of her and Brittany comes behind her and removes her hands covering her face, poking her in the side to keep her eyes open.

The men are gorgeous. All shapes, sizes, colours and after too many tequila shots she's pressed into one of them from behind, Mercedes between two hunks and Tina in front as they dance around, half-drunk and loud. It gets louder and more confusing after a while and soon she and Mercedes are dancing on a table, Mercedes' 'I'm the bride' crown a bit askew on her head as they belt out random songs as the men dance around them.

Contrary to how she is normally, she's pretty quiet when she's drunk. Kurt is as loud as ever and Mercedes laughs a lot. And with the five of them its nonstop giggles and shouting; drunk people dancing around very uncoordinated and falling all over themselves.

It's downright dirty, loud, raunchy fun and if anyone's taking pictures, they'll all be properly embarrassed in the morning. Mercedes tips another shot back when Tina mentions this and shrugs.

"I'm getting married day after tomorrow. I'm having the wrong kind of fun  _now!"_

Someone must have called Finn, she knows it wasn't her, since he's not even talking to her, but she's pretty sure that's him and Mike strolling into a club full of women with half naked men gyrating on the stage. He glares at his brother when Kurt squeals and runs over to him, throwing his arms around Finn.

"Hey baby brother!"

"Ooooh! Another one. C'mon baby, lemme see what's under that shirt!" Some woman screams, running over to them and Rachel tries to glare at her but Mercedes starts tittering at the look on her face and soon she's falling over herself laughing on the floor beside Tina.

Mike walks Tina towards his car and somehow Finn herds the rest of them all together in a cab, scowling as he has to lift his brother into the back. He rests his hands on her back as she climbs in after Mercedes.

"Why're you being such a bitch, Finn?" Kurt mutters drunkenly. Mercedes giggles beside him, her head on the headrest. "Yea, Finn, why're you such a bitch?" she repeats.

"If you like the girl, just tell her, and stop beating your chest over your own stupidity." Kurt yawns.

Rachel chuckles beside Mercedes, no clue what they're talking about. But then Finn's slamming the passenger door of the cab shut and when he looks back at them, she smiles dopily at him and rests her head on Mercedes' shoulder.

She wakes up in her own bed late, blinking angrily at the afternoon sun, Mercedes and Kurt sprawled out beside her. She'd scream in happiness at the bottles of aspirin and water on the night table beside her bed, but the light is too frickin loud.

* * *

She, Tina, Kurt and Mercedes spend an entire day primping and getting pretty for Mercedes & Sam's wedding. For once Kurt isn't a fashion Nazi but he's every bit the drama queen when she finds herself patting his shoulder when he awkwardly just bursts out crying, swallowing her grin whenever she catches Mercedes' eye.

"But you're gonna be so far away and I'm not going to see you again and who's going to keep me sane when I want to kill my brother or Blaine or when some idiot doesn't know the difference between robin's egg blue or Tiffany's blue?" Kurt bawls into his hands.

Mercedes pulls him into her arms, patting his shoulder and soon she and Tina are crying together and Sam's sister is just staring at them with wide eyes, her mouth open.

The next day passes in a flurry of activity and camera flashes and Rachel tries not to cry when Mercedes walks down the aisle in her Kurt Hummel dress and Kurt threatens to kill her if she cries in any of the wedding pictures. Sam's hand shakes when he slips the ring on Mercedes' finger but his voice is clear and loud when he answers the priest and its Mercedes crying when they walk down the aisle as husband and wife.

Mercedes squashes cake on Sam's face and he drops icing on her chest, licking it off as everyone screams. She deliberately tucks herself way in the back as the new Mrs. Evans throws the bouquet and when Sam tosses the garter, she covers her face when it lands on Finn's shoulder, he's that tall. She flips Kurt the bird when he looks pointedly at her. She takes the mic after Tina's speech and winks at Sam.

"I'm sure you know by now, that this song has been on repeat since the day you bought her the CD, and even though I can't sing it as good as Mercedes' does, you both deserve to dance to this."

_I can't smile, can't dream like a child  
Can't feel safe in this wide world without you  
I can't go can't disturb this flow  
Can't begin to know what I would do  
I can't see, can't find strength to be  
Rather not be me without you  
I can't deal, I can't even feel, without you I'm not real_

Sam dips his bride on the dance floor, and everyone around them hoots and claps and hollers. She hands the mic over to the MC and goes back to her seat at an empty table, eyes glued to the dance floor and trying her best to ignore the amber-eyed man sitting two tables across from her.

* * *

Finn shows up at her apartment one evening when Brittany's visiting. Santana and Brit look at each other then just walk out the door, clicking it shut behind them. Finn shuffles from one foot to the next, a large folder under his arm as he looks at her.

"I've had enough staring to last me a lifetime so unless you're about to start speaking, you can leave." She doesn't mean to be rude. It's just, one minute the man can't keep his hands off her and the next he won't accept her calls. Santana wants to castrate him. And she'll gladly help her.

He blows out a breath then steps forward, holding out the folder to her. She raises an eyebrow at him.

He sighs. "I was always painting when I was younger. When Kurt would be playing with dolls or dress up with Mom's clothes, I had crayons and a colouring book. My step father was cleaning out the fireplace one evening and I stuck my hand in there, coating the walls and everything I touched in charcoal. Besides the drums, it's the one thing I'm naturally good at."

She already knows this, so she doesn't say anything but he pushes the folder towards her again. She finally takes it from him and sits; he sits at the opposite end of the couch and looks at her, his eyes pleading with her to open the folder. She's seen his work before; she knows he's talented.

"About a month before we met, I got this cruel grade on my portfolio, I was in such a funk and I almost gave up painting. It sucked. Kurt threatened to dress me in pink and khakis for the rest of my life if I did, but I had no inspiration to draw. And then Quinn was there hinting we should get back together."

Her fingers pause on opening the folder and he speaks again.

"I considered it, briefly. And then Blaine got his letter for NYU and Kurt and I planned on taking him out to celebrate."

She lifts her eyes to his and he smiles. "And, well, I got wasted. You remember." He says softly.

He taps the folder in her hands. "I woke up with this image in my head. I thought she was a dream, something I made up. And so I drew her, sketched her, painted her everywhere. My memory had stored every detail of her, down to the mole on her left cheek, her nose, even the chocolate depth of her eyes. I still wasn't even sure she was real."

She didn't dare meet his eyes as he spoke. But she did open the folder and pull out several sheets of paper. Her face looked back her from every one, it was like looking in the mirror.

"Kurt and Puck tried to get me to resubmit these pieces for my final portfolio. But it didn't seem right to share the woman with the world, I didn't want to."

He rustled through the papers to find a drawing of her, at Sam's engagement party so long ago. This one was in colour, the pink polka dots of her suit, the redness in her cheeks, and the green of the bottle as she laughed with Kurt. The likeness was unbelievable.

"You drew me." She finally says.

"Almost every day since you stole away from my bed." He laughs lightly. She glares at him.

"I literally cannot get you out of my head, Rachel. You're in everything I sketch or draw." His fingers shuffle the papers onto the coffee table in front of her and even in the abstract paintings, her eyes, lips or nose was visible.

"Over Christmas break, before the New Year's party I was in the garage and I drew this." He taps a rough charcoal sketch. It's the drawing that was on display at the gallery. The one she had called magical. Her fingers shake as she picks it up.

"Why didn't you call me back?" She asks quietly.

"I was scared. I was stupid. I just…" he stops and rubs his hand over the back of his neck. "Rachel. Everyone else seemed to remember who you were from the beginning. My brother and Tina, especially. They told me about you, Tina mentioned your tattoo;  _they_  put two and two together and figured out you were who I kept drawing. Kurt said he saw you the morning you left."

She rubs her finger over one of the music notes of the drawing. It's almost scary, looking at it in closer detail; she can make out what was supposed to be the tattoo on her shoulder. And the music notes flying around, she remembers she was singing for him that night, plus she's pretty sure she was very vocal  _then_  too. She drops her hair to hide her blush.

"I wasn't even going to go to Mercedes' engagement party. But then I'd gotten a do over with my professor and I submitted some of the abstract I did over the Christmas, and my professor told me he was putting these on display for our finals. I was psyched, so me, Puck and Quinn tagged along with Kurt."

She pushes the drawing away and sits up straight.

"I wasn't even sure it was you when I first saw you, I couldn't believe it. And you didn't act like you remembered me either. But then you were talking with Kurt and laughing, and I watched you with your friends. I heard you singing in my head. I saw the girl at Tina's New Year's party. The tattoo."

She pulls her hands into her lap and stares at the drawings littering the coffee table.

"When I heard you with that dick in the kitchen, I kinda figured I'd help out you know, get on your good side, and then you ran away from me,  _I_  felt like an ass. But I knew I still wanted to see you again. And you literally wouldn't give the time of the day. I begged my brother, Tina and even Mercedes to help me out. They told me to man up and just tell you how I felt."

She tilts her head to the side, stares at him and asks again. "So why the cold shoulder since our lunch date fell through? And Quinn?"

He blows out a breath and stands, pacing in front of her. "It's stupid. I'm an idiot for it. Mercedes and Sam told me what had happened between you and Jesse St. Dickface and at the theatre-house, when I saw you guys talking," Finn sighs and drops his hands to his side, "I overreacted and thought that maybe he was apologizing and trying to get back with you or something. I'm sorry."

She rolled her eyes. "Seriously? You see one conversation and assume that I'm going to forgive that asshole and get back with him? You stop talking to me and start talking to your ex-girlfriend. Real mature, Finn."

"No!" He backtracks quickly. " It wasn't like that with me and Quinn. She knows that nothing will ever happen between us again. She's planning on moving back to Ohio. We're friends, and we've always be able to talk to each other about stuff. We have some history, yes, but we want different things in life. And she understands I don't want her like that."

She nods and gets up. "That's all nice, really. But why are you here now, Finn? Why are you telling me all this?"

She ignores his wince. He sighs heavily and nods.

"Quinn told me to stop being a jerk."

"I could've told you that."

He cracks a smile and steps closer. "Kurt told me that acting all cocky and cool wasn't doing me any favours and if I wanted to be with you I should just talk to you, like myself. Like Finn."

She refrains from rolling her eyes and bites the inside of her cheek. "Again, I could've told you that."

He chuckles and holds his hand out for her to shake. "So, I'm doing this the right way. Hi, I'm Finn Hudson. I can be a right clown sometimes and not think about things before I do them. I'm an intern at Sunset Galleries, I can't dance, I sing a little bit and I play the drums real good, and I'd really like to take you out to dinner some time."

* * *

So, Finn takes her to dinner on Thursday. He shows up at the apartment, on the dot at seven o'clock in a button down with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows and jeans, smile wide, hair unruly and looking like a runway model. In the taxi he tells her that Kurt had him soaking his hands in some weird-smelling concoction to get the paint and coal from off his fingers and under his fingernails; his palms are calloused and sweaty in hers as they walk to the restaurant.

She turns surprised eyes to him when he stops outside her favourite eatery in the city.

"Kurt told me." He says shyly, his cheeks red. He holds his elbows out and escorts her in, grinning from ear to ear the entire night. When he takes her back home several hours later but too soon, her cheeks tingle when he kisses her goodbye at the door.

They go to the movies on Friday night when he waits for her after rehearsal. "Your choice." He hands his phone to her as the walk to the cinema a couple blocks away.

"You sure you want to do that? Aren't men usually afraid of some lovey-dovey romance movie their dates usually pick?" she says, scrolling through the listings available.

He laughs. "Yea, well, some of those movies make you want to hang yourself halfway through. But I think I'll suffer through whatever you pick."

She looks up at him and smiles. "Uh huh. Right."

She picks  _Avengers_ , well, because Loki. And Thor. And Tony Stark… the movie is packed with so much sexiness, and action and comedy and she's having a fantastic time, even though Finn keeps rolling his eyes at her when she fans herself whenever Thor or Loki comes on screen.

She tosses popcorn at him when Natasha Romanoff struts around in her leather catsuit and he waggles his eyebrows over at her. The other people in their row keep shushing them and she sticks her tongue at this one dude who leers at her when she wolf-whistles at the screen. Finn puts his arm around her shoulder when the man keeps staring at her, and she looks from the man to Finn to see fire in his eyes and then man grunts and turns away.

They meet up with Santana and Brittany at the bar later that night and his fingers stay linked in her belt loop all night until he kisses her on her cheek when she gets in a cab with Santana to head home.

The next afternoon Kurt drags the both of them from hanging out on his couch to the design studio to help with cleaning up and then they go get Santana from work and they hang out in Central park, eating bagels, kicking leaves and hanging out. They show up at her show that night with Blaine and his and Finn's whistling earn her a few snickers from her castmates.

Afterwards, she ends up pressed beside him in a booth by Joe's bar, his arm thrown over her shoulder, fingers playing with her hair as they watch Blaine and Santana play darts and he buries his face in her hair laughing when Blaine misses a throw and falls on his face.

They're both playing it safe, drinking soda and water for most of the night. You know, just in case.

* * *

She wakes up to sunshine and a silent apartment. It's early, just after 8am but she has nothing doing today, a completely free day from rehearsals. She  _really_  appreciates Will giving her the day off from rehearsals. A three-month run is incredible, and she's already gotten the script for April's play.

She wants to enjoy today, it's the first day since forever she doesn't have to spend with just her parents and Sam and Santana; she has friends to celebrate her birthday with this year. She sits up in bed, a happy squeal escaping her lips and then her eyes land on a bunch of papers at the foot of her bed. She scrambles to the pile, and they're all birthday cards. From everyone. Her parents, Sam and Mercedes, Santana, Brittany, Mike, Tina, Kurt's card is shaped like a dress and she's laughing at how perfect all the cards are until she finds one that's obviously hand drawn.

He draws her blowing out candles on a cake with a tiara on her head and wishes her the most special birthday any woman can be blessed with. She blushes and sticks them on her vanity, sticking Finn's at the top, a gold star sticking it to the mirror.

She may be 22 years old, but for someone who went through the majority of her life with little friends the day is already awesome.

"Berry! Get your ass out here."

She's brushing her teeth in the bathroom when Santana shouts for her. There are bagels and coffee cups on the counter and Santana is flipping through a magazine.

"Feliz cumpleaños mi amiga." Santana drawls.

Rachel giggles. "Geez, San. Show a little more compassion, will you? It's my birthday!" she wraps her hand around Santana from the side.

Santana snorts and weasels herself out of Rachel's arms and pushes a cup of green tea towards her. "You're like this every birthday Rachel, like a squirrel on crack. You have enough compassion and energy for the both of us."

"Pssh. Where's Brit?"

"Home. So! Dinner then Joe's? Mercedes & Sam are flying in and Mike and Tina are dropping by. And I have the strange feeling Kurt and Blaine will be there too." Santana looks up from the magazine.

"And maybe a certain artist? What 6'3", amber eyes? You two've been looking pretty chummy since the other day."

Rachel shakes her head at Santana, her smile innocent.

"Fine. Don't kiss and tell. See if I care." Rachel snorts and sips at her tea.

"So, this is yours." She tosses a pink envelope onto the counter between them. Rachel picks it up, opens it and squeals.

"Santana, these are passes to a spa! Haircut, nails, wow."

"Yes my lil hobbit, you're officially a college grad and the last of us to leave 21 behind. Yay."

She jumps up and wraps her hand around her best friend the same time the door opens. They turn their heads to see Kurt waltzing in with a shopping bag, his sunglasses perched on top of his head.

"Why, Kurt. Come on in." Santana glares. Kurt ignores her and pulls Rachel into his arms.

"Happy Birthday, my lil diva!" He laughs happily, kissing her hair. "Are you done? Showered and ready to go?"

"Ready to go where? What's in the bag?"

He pushes the bag towards Santana who takes it and drops it inside Rachel's bedroom door, then grabs both their coats and purses. Kurt drops her hat on her hair and pulls her out the door.

"Step one of your birthday celebration diva."

* * *

She's waxed and plucked and primped and pressed and squeezed and rubbed until her body is pliant in the chair, Santana on one side and Kurt on the other, cucumber slices over their eyes as their nails are painted. They bicker and argue about the silliest thing and she just ignores them, humming lightly to herself.

"What's the plan for the rest of today guys?" she shouts, trying to get their attention. She picks up one of the slices of cucumber and looks over towards Santana when she hears their hushed whispers.

"What?"

"Nothing."

She looks at Kurt. "What's with the whispering?"

"Noneya damn business." Santana says, laying back and covering her eyes.

Rachel pouts. "But it's my birthday."

"And I don't care. It's your birthday, you're not the queen."

She turns back to Kurt. "Kurt?"

He lays back too, copying Santana. "I agree with Satan. Be patient."

"I told you to stop calling me that." Santana snaps.

"Oh, but it suits you so well." Kurt replies.

It's way past four o'clock when they leave the spa, giddy and relaxed after a day of pampering. Kurt makes her change outfits before they left, insisting yoga pants and a t-shirt aren't fitting for Manhattan on birthdays. She doesn't have time to glare at him properly because suddenly her fathers are both rushing up to hug her.

"Now, go. We'll see you back at your apartment for stage three, missy!" Santana states, waving her off with her parents.

She and her dads have an early dinner and they take her to see a Broadway show, taking too many pictures then dropping her back at her apartment at 8pm sharp with cheek kisses and a promise to call her in the morning. Her daddy winks at her conspiratorially and tells her to have fun. The second she opens the door Kurt rushes her to change, there's an outfit laid out on her bed. He nods approvingly and Santana winks and whistles when she walks back out in the sheer calf-length dress.

"Goodbye knee-highs and animal sweaters! The diva is on the prowl. Rawr."

"Thank you, Santana." She laughs.

"Pretty sure my brother won't have any idea what to do with you tonight." Kurt winks.

"I can think of some." Santana laughs and Rachel throws her purse at her, blushing prettily.

"Come, come. Stage Three awaits!" Kurt holds out her jacket, takes her purse and slips an envelope in. "For stage four." He winks again, handing it back to her.

* * *

She expected them to go partying, just like they did for every birthday they celebrated together. So she's surprised when the taxi pulls up outside of Joe's bar and Finn's leaning against the wall by the door. He pushes away and hurries to open the door for her, his eyes wide when she puts one bare leg out and then the next.

"Wow." He clears his throat to utter. "You look amazing."

"Thanks. Kurt chose the dress."

Finn nods. "I've never been more proud of my brother's eye for fashion than right now. You are beautiful." He murmurs. They're still standing on the curb beside the taxi, her palm hot in his hand while he stares down at her, his eyes flickering to her lips and back to her eyes.

"I really want to kiss you."

She blushes and tilts her head to the side. "I really want you to kiss me."

He smiles and bends his head to hers, hips lips touching hers softly, sweetly, before pulling back to look down at her. She opens her eyes and smiles up at him.

"Happy Birthday beautiful."

She grins and he pulls her into his side then turns and leads her into Joe's. She's taken aback at the cheers of 'surprise!' that greet her when she enters and Joe winks at her, pointing over his head to the banner with her name covered in gold stars. For once, she's speechless.

She doesn't remember much of the birthday celebration itself even though it was packed with cast mates from Will's play, the few classmates she made friends with at Tisch, Will, Mercedes and Sam, Mike and Tina, Kurt, Blaine, Brittany and Santana, Puck and Quinn. Everyone had cheesy birthday hats on and sang Happy Birthday when she walked in with Finn.

She hid her face in his shoulder when the singing started and he kisses her hair and tugs her out, startled at the tears on her face. She squeezes his hand and tells him to not to worry and he holds her close until the singing stops and when she goes around the room greeting and thanking people, he stops to chat with Tina and Mike and she ends up standing to the side between Sam and Santana, her face wet and smile happy.

"Christ, please don't cry." Santana mutters.

Rachel smiles, brushing the wetness from her eyes and shakes her head.

"What, Rach?" Sam asks.

She looks around the room, her eyes lingering on Finn before looking back at her two best friends. "This time last year it was just the three of us and Brit, sharing a cupcake in a booth." She covers her mouth as she hiccups.

Sam wraps his arm around her shoulders.

"Just to think. All it took was getting plastered and giving it up to some guy you just met. Bad Rachel." Santana smirks, but she does wrap her arm around Rachel's waist, laughing when she tries to glare at her.

"I don't want to be so happy and then its all taken away."

"What do you mean?"

"This. Today. I have friends. And Finn." She smiles, her eyes automatically finding him in the throng of people standing around. She spies the Happy Birthday Rachel banner in the corner and fresh tears spring to her eyes. After so many birthdays alone or with her smattering of friends, today is kind of surreal.

"Well, look at it this way. People do like you. You're not a total troll. And you need to stop being so hard on yourself. You're getting old, and worry lines aren't very becoming on you."

She pushes Santana away and Sam wraps his arms around her.

"You know that's Santana's way of saying she loves you." Sam chuckles dropping a kiss onto her hair. Santana glares at him.

"But, you really need to stop thinking so hard about everything. You're awesome and cool, Rach. And the minute you stop doubting that, others will realize it too. We're here and we both know for a fact that they adore you." He nods towards Kurt and Finn, now laughing and joking with Tina, Mike, Artie and Puck. She's not sure about Quinn though.

"Point is, for tonight, no more worries, no what-ifs, just live in the now. It's your day."

"Really, with all these feelings tonight I'm starting to wonder where you keep your vagina Sam." Santana smirks.

Sam shakes his head and laughs. "You lost your virginity to me in my pool-house when you were fourteen San. I didn't have a vagina then and I don't have one now." Rachel snickers from under his arm.

Santana bites back a retort and shakes her finger at them. "That's  _not_ the story we're going with here."

Sam nods, his smile smug. "Alright. I'll remember that for the future."

Santana cuts her eyes at them and sips at her beer. "One of these days the both of you will come up missing. Watch." Rachel laughs louder, pressing her face into Sam's shoulder as he shakes with laughter too.

She loves the two clowns.

"Good to see you smiling again. It is your birthday after all. Which reminds me, why aren't we drunk yet?" Sam excuses himself and then Kurt comes over to the table and slides her purse over to her.

"Happy Birthday! Open it."

She does, and there's a Marriott key inside. She raises her eyes and looks at Santana and Kurt.

"Your dads helped. You have it until Monday morning to check out, but we," Santana motions between herself and Kurt, "figured you needed some unrestricted privacy for tonight."

She blushes crimson and opens her mouth to reply. Santana beats her to it. "Berry, don't even try and deny. I don't know how you haven't managed to spontaneously combust yet, even I get turned on watching Finn's dirty smirk. Shut up Kurt." She glares sideways.

"Brit's roommates are annoying and I do have work to pay attention to and well, Finn lives with three men, so take this as a blessing. You can get freak nasty with Big Sexy as loud as you want, and no one will give a damn."

She doesn't know why she's embarrassed. This is Santana after all. But her cheeks are tinted red when she looks at Finn standing at the bar with Joe and Brittany and joking. But he's not drinking.

And neither is she.

* * *

She remembers exactly how it happens this time.

She can't remember how and when her panties ended up in Finn's pocket but as they rode the elevator towards the room her friends had set them up in his palm was firmly planted on her ass. She rubs her thighs together every time his fingers brush over her backside and has to bite her tongue to tamp down on a moan when he squeezes her.

Heels gone, shirt tossed to the side, dressed hiked up, pants undone, she's grinding atop him as he attacks her neck with his kisses and she pulls away briefly to finally yank her dress off, pressing her naked chest against his, moaning when his hand palms her backside again, sweeping his tongue insider her mouth.

"Wait.  _Rach_." He mumbles. "Listen. Shit." She has her teeth nibbling at  _his_ neck when he pauses to talk and his fingers dig deeper into her hair and he moans, curses and physically has to pull himself away from her.

"Babe. I don't want you to think we're here just for sex. I mean -  _crap -_ yes, I really want to have sex with you, but we don't have to. Tonight that is. It's your birthday, so we can just watch a movie or talk or cuddle. Or just, you, know... hang out and stuff. You don't have to do anything you don't want to do." He mutters lamely.

"Finn. That's adorable, really, but I'm sitting on top of you. Naked. You really think I want to just cuddle and talk with you right this very minute?"

His eyes drop to her flushed chest and he bites his lips, his head shaking slowly from side to side.

"Good." She purrs, dropping her lips to blow into his ear. "You said you liked it when I screamed." She bit his ear and his hips rocked up into hers. "Make me."

He growls and rolls them over so that she's under him, both of her hands locked in one of his, held above her head. Her breasts are pushed up and together and Finn watches her eyes as he bends to move his tongue over one breast, lightly nipping her nipple before he moves to the other. She squirms beneath him and he settles his other hand on her waist to still her and wraps his lips around her nipple, his teeth lightly grazing at her before his lips pull at her lightly.

"Finn. Finn.  _Shit_."

He keeps her like that for a good while until she's practically keening beneath him and when he moves his lips and fingers down her body, swirling his tongue inside her belly button, she's about to explode. He spends his time pressing kisses to her hip and then down her thigh, behind her knee and running his tongue along her calves. She's pretty sure he's trying to kill her when his fingers follow her mouth up and over, doing the same thing to the other leg.

She grabs his chin when he settles his lips at the inside of her thigh and glares at him. "Quit playing around."

He chuckles and goes back to licking at her thigh.

" _Finn_." Rachel whines. She's just about soaked the sheets and he hasn't even touched her yet.

"Yea?"

"Baby, please."

"Please, what?" His nose rubs between the curve of the leg.

She tries to buck her hips into him when his lips brush softly at her skin. He rests a palm on her belly and goes back to pressing soft kisses.

"Baby." She practically growls and then her mouth opens, his name frozen her lips and then a breathy moan as her hips lift off the bed when his tongue licks at her wetness. She tries to speak but he does it again and practically turns to putty when he curls his tongue inside her. She grips at the sheet on the bed and pushes her hips upwards, toes curled beneath Finn as his lips pulls at her skin and by the time he slips a finger inside her heat she's crying out softly as her body unravels under his tongue.

He doesn't stop and her body is heated and covered in sweat as he pushes her over twice more, his name on her lips and legs shaking.

He kisses his way up her body and she lifts shaky hands to touch his face, her chest heaving as he kisses her. "Happy Birthday to me." She mumbles shakily.

"Yes." He laughs, "But the night's still young."

Her eyes roll back into her head when he presses inside her, back arched off the bed up into his chest. He kisses her shoulder and touches her face. "Rachel, look at me."

Her eyes flutter open and he smiles, his hips pulling away before pushing into her again. She can't keep her eyes open and her body already feels wound up too tight at the delicious way he stretches her. Finn nibbles at her neck, his fingers plucking at her nipple as he moves inside her, her legs drawn up on either side of him.

"Baby, open your eyes." He whispers.

Her eyes snap to his, and the cocky smirk he used to wear is gone. There's something else there, something she can't name just yet but he smiles again and kisses the side of her mouth and her fingers clutch at his shoulder, crying out loudly as her orgasm surprises her, heat washing over her as he kisses her again, harder this time.

* * *

Finn has his hands tangled in her hair, one hand wrapped around her body as he presses into her from behind. They haven't actually left the hotel room since her birthday yesterday and  _good Lord!_ the man is skilled with his hands. He presses between her thighs as he moves slowly inside her.

"Finn." She whines.

He pulls her up onto her knees, her back pressed into his chest, his hand wrapped around her as he moves. She turns her head into his neck and he licks at her lips, one hand brushing over her chest, the other pinching between her legs.

She gasps as his teeth scrape her ear, his voice deep as he murmurs. "C'mon baby girl. Let go."

She reaches one hand behind her to grab his hair so she can fuse their lips together, moaning into his mouth as she falls over the edge again.

* * *

On the night of their last performance of  _Phoenix Rising_ she's backstage with some the other ladies in the cast when one of them sticks their head in the door and says her boyfriend is out there to see her. She shushes them as the tease her and she practically skips to the door but her smile falls when she sees Jesse pacing the floor nearby. She crosses her arms over her chest and frowns at him.

"What do you want Jesse?"

"Just came by to say break a leg tonight. I'm sure you'll do an exceptional performance and we can't wait to start rehearsals soon." He gives her a smile that's almost genuine.

"Er, thanks. Really."

He nods and steps closer to her, tugging one hand free - he's really itching to be slapped the way he likes to touch her - and rubs his thumb over her palm. "I was hoping," - cue fake smile - "that maybe you'd like to have dinner with me tomorrow? I mean, we'll be working together closely, and we did have chemistry together, and the past is in the past right? Why can't we be friends?"

She snorts quite unladylike and pulls her hand from his grasp. It'll be a cold day in hell before she ever considers Jesse St. James anything remotely close to a friend. He must be crazy if he thinks she wants to have anything to do with him besides the play they'll both be starring in. She watches the smile slip from his face and chuckles, enjoying his discomfort a bit too much.

"Rach? Sweetie? You alright?"

She smiles as she remembers Sam & Mercedes' party and she turns around to see Finn standing there with his cocky smirk, hands crossed over his chest and a blue orchid in his fist. She steps to him and he pulls her close, tipping her head back so he could kiss her properly and smiles against her lips when they both hear Jesse muttering expletives as he stomps away.

"I really don't like that guy." Finn scowls at Jesse's retreating back.

She laughs and puts both hands on his face, turning his eyes back to her. "You and me both. And you don't have to worry, it's just acting with him, it's just a job."

He nods, and twists his fingers in the skirt of her costume. "Finn."

His eyes meet hers and she smiles, waiting for him to give her  _her_ smile. His lips tug up at the corner and she giggles, pressing her face into his strong chest. "No matter how you may see me on that stage, no matter how happy I may look, or even when I'm kissing him, remember its just an act. I'm with  _you_. And you're the only one who gives me butterflies and make me feel ridiculously happy and crazy inside."

She stops and bites her lips. "Well, Thor or Loki might." She laughs when he digs his fingers into her side.

"Crushing on a comic book hero, Rach? I thought that was Sam's forte?"

"No. I'm crushing on the actor. Have you seen Chris Hemsworth  _without his_  shirt on?"

Finn gives her a withering look and she snorts. She throws her arms around his neck and pushes herself up to kiss him. When she pulls away he smiles shyly and hands her the orchid.

"Break a leg."

She touches the flower to her nose and winks at him. Her  _I love you_  is whispered into the petals.

* * *

They all end up at Joe's bar the day after their respective Thanksgiving dinners. Brittany is practically living by her and Santana's now, and she's made an investment in earplugs, because, the blonde is loud. Kurt, Blaine and Finn had flown home to Ohio and only gotten back earlier today. She didn't even get five minutes with him when they showed up at Joe's because everyone was excited and noisy and loud and hadn't seen each other in forever, so yea.

Tina's still boasting about the rock Mike put on her finger over two weeks ago. Santana and Puck apparently have the same taste in motorcycles and made plans for them to visit the garage where Santana keeps her bike. Rachel's really glad that her two sets of friends have blended so well together but Mike, Blaine, Sam, Finn and Puck on one side of their booth yakking it up looks a bit suspect.

Mercedes is only sipping soda water and she and Sam keep giving each other these sly looks and she exchanges looks with Kurt and nods, because clearly there's a baby shower to be planned in the near future. Tina is entertaining them with the story of how Mike proposed and Brittany stops by, leaning onto the booth with stars in her eyes as she listens. Santana scowls.

Finn tips back his beer and catches her eyes, his own twinkling. "Don't get any ideas." She mouths to him, looking first at Tina and then Mike. She's joking, really, but the idea is kinda nice. The look in Finn's eyes changes and he nods towards the open floor, couples scattered around dancing. And Finn doesn't dance. She smacks Tina's elbow out of the way and slips out of the booth, Finn wrapping his arms around her as they start swaying on the dance floor. Except he's moving them towards the back, away from the crowd and towards the bathrooms. He has her in a stall, against the wall, their lips and tongues glued together.

"These fucking jeans. Are they painted on?" Finn grunts, her legs wrapped around her waist as he tries to tug them off.

She giggles and manouvers herself against the wall as she tries to pull her pants from off her hips. It's tricky for a little bit and then she's biting down on and moaning into his shoulder as he slips inside her.

She's very thankful for several things at the moment.

* * *

Santana catches them in the kitchen once.

She starts to scream in Spanish at the top of her voice and Rachel just hides her face in Finn's shoulder as she laughs. The number of times she's walked in to her and Brittany in the living room and kitchen with hands hiding in forbidden places is too much to name. It doesn't stop Santana from being extra vocal later that night in Brittany's room, right next to Rachel's. She glares at her best friend the next morning when she's having breakfast.

"You're horrible."

"We don't fuck in the common areas." Santana smiles at her.

"We  _weren't_ doing that!" Rachel says hotly.

Santana snickers. "I know the kitchen is the designated eating area, but don't you think Finn was talking that a bit too literally?"

Rachel drops her head onto the counter and groans. Really, she should know better than sparring verbally with Santana. The woman eats thorns as a snack. "I don't know what to do with you sometimes."

She looks up to the smirk on Santana's face and glares. "Just, no."

Brittany comes yawning out her room and kisses Santana before pouncing on the coffee pot. "Hey, I need help decorating the bar for Christmas, can you guys help?"

The twins opt to stay in the city for Christmas so the entire gang hang out as Joe's, drinking and making use of the karaoke machine set up. The days pass by quickly and they find themselves back at the bar as people flock to Times Square for the ball drop at New Years. Joe's promised free tequila shots from 10pm til New Year's so almost everyone around them is wasted. Plus he has a dicso ball overhead.

It's standing room only in the bar and she's with Kurt and Blaine as Santana and Puck try their hands at darts. Santana's winning. Tina and Mercedes are chatting, heads close together and Sam, Artie and Finn are on stage singing some strange song. Quinn's firmly planted at the bar chatting with Joe and Kurt nudges Rachel in the side when she stares at Joe blatantly flirting.

"You're going to catch flies."

"But it's Joe. Flirting with the princess." She gestures. She's amazed, really. She hadn't really had much interaction with Quinn, not that she wanted to, but it was just always awkward around her. She figures she must have known about Finn's drawings too since everyone now knows he kept drawing her and she can't help but think just maybe Quinn dislikes her for it. And Joe, well, he was the quiet, brooding type, supermodel gorgeous with beautiful eyes and a chiseled jaw and a head full of dreadlocks. He was also super smart and owned three other bars in and around Brooklyn. The man didn't need to work, he just liked to.

"Don't worry. I'm pretty sure she's in good hands. Joe's alright."

"It's not Quinn I'm worried about." She chuckles. She knows Joe, she's known him since her first days at Tisch; even though he owns a bar, the man's a saint, well-liked and genuinely nice, some women would take advantage of that. She's not sure she trusts Quinn. At all.

Finn appears behind them, dropping small kisses onto her shoulder. She giggles and turns her neck so he can wrap his arms around her and put more kisses there.

"Please, find a room. You two are like rabbits." Kurt arches an eyebrow at them, shaking his head. Finn's fingers tighten at her waist and she looks over her shoulder at him, then at the door leading off from the bar. They look back at each other and nod. No one is paying them any attention as they slowly inch their way towards the door, Finn tugging at her hand as he slips inside, flipping on a light.

"You really look good in this dress."

"Thanks. No ripping this time though. Your brother will kill me and then kill you." She says curling her fingers into his shirt and pulling him down to her.

He presses her up against a wall in the storage room then, both hands above her head clasped in one of his, lips insistent against hers. Her dress is hiked up around her waist, his pants around his legs and Joe would probably beat them both over the head if he came in here and found them like this but she doesn't really care because Finn's lips are working their magic over the skin at her neck.

He does this thing where he's staring in her eyes when he kisses her and it should freak her out but her entire body feel like jelly and she can't look away from his gaze.

She blinks and he rests his head against her forehead. She can hear and feel him breathing against her. He's still hard inside her, his hands wrapped around her body and she really wants him to start moving again. Why on earth he insists on torturing her like this, she'll never understand.

She rocks her hips and his breath hitches.

"Rachel." He whispers harshly. Her fingers pull hard at the hair at the back of his neck.

"Baby, I know this maybe the worst place and time to say this but I feel like I'll burst if I don't." Finn says in a rush, lifting his head to look in her eyes again. She'd probably let him do or say anything just as long as he moves  _again_.

"I love you."

Well, except that.

His eyes bore into hers and she can see the doubt and fear? in the amber filled depths and she knows he's waiting for her to say something, anything. She's expecting the panic any time now, the sweaty palms and her overactive behaviour but none of that happens. It should surprise her, but it doesn't since she's pretty sure she's almost said it to him before. Instead, she rests her palm against his cheek and kisses him.

"I love you too baby."

She can't remember why exactly she tried to avoid him before, why she tried to run away from him when he feels so right, safe and like she's home anytime she's in his arms. He loves her and she loves him and she's not afraid to admit it, but can he please continue what they were doing before she-

He rocks his hips against hers – and  _God yes!_  and kisses her again. Her head falls back against the wall, her nails digging into his shoulder.

"You love me."

Her answer is partially his answer and partially a request for more her hips jerk.  _"Yes. Finn."_

He snickers and moves her atop him again, pulling her harder onto his body, dropping his head onto her neck, his lips pressing hot and wet against her skin, especially when she moans.

"Baby, they're counting. Can you hear?" Finn mumbles.

"Uh huh." The countdown is at seven and for every count Finn moves his hips, the heated tingling starting from somewhere deep down inside her. He whispers her name into her skin, his body hard against hers as she shatters around him, her orgasm pulling her from this year into the next. His hands slide against her waist and he grunts into her chest as he follows her, muted singing from the crowd in the next room the soundtrack to his own release.

He steals another kiss before he lets her down slowly. Her legs wobble a little and she smacks his chest when he laughs. He pulls her dress back down, pulls his pants back up and pulls her close to him, tucking her head under his chin.

"Happy New Year babe. I love you." He repeats.

She blushes and smiles. Did he think she forgot? She pulls away and reaches up on her toes to kiss him softly. "I loved starting a new year with you. Again. And I love you too."

They try and sneak back into the celebration outside. Brittany's balloons and confetti still fall from the ceiling and people are still moving around and wishing each other Happy New Year. They're not three steps from the door they just left before they run into Santana, a beer in one hand and Brittany's palm wrapped around the other.

"Oh my God. Were you two fucking in the storage room?" Santana is loud and everyone in earshot turns around to look at them. Finn laughs and pulls Rachel closer to his body.

"Don't hate Lopez. Not because I got some and you didn't. But feel free to catch up on that." He winks and leads her back towards their table.

* * *

She gets mixed reviews for the start of her run in  _Bye Bye Birdie._ She feels kind of down because  _Phoenix Rising_  was good and the critics loved that. So why is it now she's the star in a revival and not everyone likes her? She cries in her dressing room the night after the first reviews come out and not even Jesse approaches her. Will knocks on her door and tells her to chin up, the show must go on.

"Even if they think I'm 'a dwarfed wannabe whose nose surpasses her talent'?" She hiccups.

Will walks into the room and uses a piece of tissue to dab at her eyes. "Even if. There'll always be naysayers. But some critics really liked your performance, and didn't two of them mentioned a Tony nod if and when we move to Broadway?"

She smiles wetly and him and lifts her chin. "I might have read that once or twice."

"So why do you believe the others and not those? Not everyone is going to like you Rachel. As long as you do your best, that's what counts."

She nods again.

"Good. We're on in five." Will smiles at her and leaves, winking before he goes.

Later, when she's sitting at the table with Kurt and Finn, cutting out all the reviews for her scrapbook, which she only just started, she complains about the talentless hicks who claim to be fans of Broadway who seem to think remaking her personal appearance would better her for the stage. Why does what she look like adversely affect how she performs?

"I know you're worrying about what some of those critics say, but you were incredible on stage. And other people believe that." Kurt says.

"It's true. So what if a couple of them think you should change how you look when you sing? You're an amazing performer, just do what you do to keep blowing them away at every performance, babe. You're good."

"Finn, you're my boyfriend. And Kurt you're my best friend. You're supposed to say that to me." Her smile is gentle as she looks over at him.

He blinks in confusion and shrugs. "But its the truth. I thought you were a fantastic singer the night I met you. I may have forgotten what you looked like but never what you sounded like. You surprise me every time you sing. If you listen to every one of those critics who recommend you get a nose job - which for the record, Barbra Streisand? - and suggest you lose twenty-five pounds so you can perform better on stage, then you're an idiot. And don't look at me like I'm crazy."

"We all know you're crazy. You were drawing her face and music notes and didn't think she was real." Kurt mutters to himself.

She laughs quietly to herself the same time Finn says, "Shut up Kurt."

He rolls his eyes at his brother and flips another page in the magazine he's reading.

"Still, it hurts when you work so hard for something and people still don't like you." she says.

"Not everyone will like or love you Rachel. But you're unforgettable. You're good. You're talented, and pretty soon everyone will know it. Don't believe me?" He walks over to them and pulls out a drawing from his portfolio, placing it on the table between them.

"World, meet Rachel Berry." He taps the drawing and kisses her hair before he walks away.

Her eyes stare back at her from the paper. She's standing in front of a fireball with her hair flowing out behind her, she looks like she's on fire, even her eyes. She has a glittering mic in one hand and the other is pointing up as her mouth opens in song, music notes flying through the air around her and even they look like they can explode.

"He's good." Kurt murmurs.

"I told you you had a powerful voice!" Finn hollers from his room. She traces the outline of her face and looks up at Kurt to see the shit-eating grin on his face matches her own. She looks back to Finn's drawing and smiles. How can she possibly  _not_ love the man?

Fine, she may not ever be a Broadway beauty but she loves the way Finn looks at her like she just hung the stars in the sky. He makes her laugh and he can laugh with her, he calls her on her bullshit and he's almost as stubborn as she is. But every time he touches her, every time he touches his forehead to hers, every single time he kisses her, and even with just a look, something swells up inside her, an explosive force that burns away all her doubts and fears. He sees her like this; he looks at her like she can challenge the world, and win, one song at a time.

He's painted her doing it, so, why can't she?

...


End file.
